


Different Perspectives

by LexaDeLavode



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Falling In Love, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Post-War, Sexual Orientation, Slow Burn, Teasing, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Time Turner (Harry Potter), Useless Lesbians, Young Minerva McGonagall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 58,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29175360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexaDeLavode/pseuds/LexaDeLavode
Summary: Immediately after the battle of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger takes a moment to reflect in private and ends up on the embankment of the Black Lake. She passes out and is later found by Minerva McGonagall, setting both women on an unexpected path to start spending time together. Despite the age-difference, they seem to have more in common than anyone originally would’ve thought and a tentative friendship quickly ensues. Amidst the post-war happenings they grow closer than either of them anticipated and both witches struggle to come to terms with their developing feelings. Insights and comments from those around them contribute to their confusion and when a certain Time-Turner and cursed scar are added to the equation, the results change both of their lives forever.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Minerva McGonagall
Comments: 138
Kudos: 196





	1. The black-out

**Author's Note:**

> “This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling. I do not own the characters, I am merely borrowing them to share an alternate storyline”
> 
> Author’s note:  
> 1\. Hi there 😊 I’m excited to join you all here on AO3 and I hope some of you will be happy with me too. I must confess it’s because of other writers who have posted some really amazing works here, that this story came to be.  
> 2\. This is a story that revolves around two woman with an age difference who end up falling in love. If this theme bothers you, I suggest you find something else to read. 'Mature' rating for later chapters.  
> 3\. I have a lot of this fic written out already, so I’ll be posting the second chapter later this week to ‘get the story going’. After that, if at least one person says they’re enjoying the story so far, I’ll try to update once a week.  
> 4\. I’m not a native speaker/writer and I don’t have a beta, so if anyone would like to correct any mistakes I made, or have suggestions on wordplay or synonyms or anything else, do not hesitate to comment. I’m very much open to well-founded criticism, as I’d like to use this platform to improve my writing. I’d like to gain some insight in how others perceive my writing style: is it fluent, can I hold your attention, …?  
> That being said, it’s my first attempt at writing a fanfic and it’s going to be a (very) slow burn. I’m reaching 60.000 words in my draft without being anywhere near the end, so if you’re joining me on this adventure, be prepared for a time-turning journey. I hope you’ll enjoy it!
> 
> This story begins right after the battle of Hogwarts has ended.

‘I’m just saying, that’s the Elder wand. The most powerful wand in the world… With that, we’d be invincible.’

Hermione turned her head to look at Ron when he spoke, wondering where that statement had come from. She frowned at the greedy expression on the ginger-haired member of their little group. Ron didn’t notice as he kept his eyes trained on Harry, who stood near the viaduct’s edge.

The Boy Who Lived (Again) gave no indication that he had heard his mate, but after spending months together in a tent, Hermione could read him like an open book. She noticed the set of his jaw and the hand by his side tensing around the Elder wand he held. He had definitely heard and was considering Ron’s words.

Despite the exhaustion from the final battle, her mind started running through the implications as well. _That wand could be used to heal the bodies of the badly injured survivors. Maybe even succeed on the otherwise impossible task of bringing back their fallen comrades from the brink of death. It could be used on their remaining adversaries and easily determine which people had really been under the imperious curse. It could be used to track the Death Eaters who managed to escape after Voldemort had died and contain them until they could be trialled. They could use the wand to root out any remaining convictions of pureblood supremacy! Make sure this kind of hatred was removed from the world! They could …_

Her line of thought was quite suddenly interrupted by a soft ‘snap!’ as Harry broke the wand in two. He tossed both halves into the wide cleft underneath the viaduct and three sets of eyes watched the pieces fall.

Reflexively she and Ron made to move after it, but they were halted in their movements by Harry, who turned to look at them. The shock must have been clearly visible on her bruised and dirt stained face when she met his eyes. Her features softened somewhat when he held her gaze and smiled knowingly. After turning to Ron and holding his gaze for a moment too, Harry turned and walked away from them.

Hermione just sighed and watched him go. _Of course Harry wouldn’t be tempted. Not anymore. Not after his obsession with the Deathly Hallows almost ruined their entire endeavour. He had learned the hard way that some of the most powerful items known and unknow to wizards really were too good to be true. That there would always be unanticipated consequences to such power. Power that could be used with all the best intentions, but that would inevitably force others into submission. It were exactly such convictions that had started this bloody war in the first place. Harry was right. They would have to do better. Find a better way_.

With new determination she turned away from the bridge’s edge and took a few deliberately slow steps until she stood by Harry’s side and reached for his hand. She felt him squeeze hers in response but he remained standing in the same spot, eyes looking over the familiar grounds.

She felt Ron approaching them from her other side and she automatically inclined her head towards him. Feeling his fingers interlock with hers felt a little weird after their kiss, but for now she decided not to dwell on it. They would probably talk about that later, but right now the young witch assumed they were all just too tired for anything that wasn’t life-threatening.

Making the effort to shut off her wayward thoughts, she followed Harry’s gaze and tried to just absorb the moment. Together the three of them watched the surrounding landscape, allowing the recent events to settle in. She felt a swell of pride over their achievements but mostly she was just grateful to be alive.   
  
She didn’t know how long they stood there, contemplating in silence. They only moved after a hesitant voice called out from behind them: “Ronald?”

Turning around, they took in the appearance of a very red-eyed and dishevelled Percy Weasley. He was obviously feeling uneasy for disturbing them, but addressed his younger brother nevertheless: “Mother and father are about to return home with the rest of the family. They asked me to come find you.”

He looked at Harry and Hermione and added: “You should all come to the Burrow and rest. After what happened here today, I believe we could all do with some food and a bed.”

Ron and Harry nodded their thanks and started after Percy’s retreating form. Only to turn around again when they realised Hermione wasn’t following.

She lowered her eyes before answering their inquiring look. “You guys go on ahead, I …” Her fingers had started fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie and she had to take a mindful breath to dispel the sudden nervousness. She looked up to two bemusedly frowning faces and managed a wry smile before continuing: “I need some time.”

Harry looked like he was about to protest, but Ron beat him to it: “Bloody hell ‘Mione, haven’t we just been taking our time by standing here for an hour? Whatever it is you want to do, can wait until we’ve slept, no?”

Hermione felt anger flare up at his condescending tone and she saw him hesitate when he caught on to her annoyance. Knowing that they were all beyond tired and not in the best mindset for an argument, she took a deep breath to collect herself. Exhaling forcefully, she managed to keep her voice neutral when answering him: “I know we need to sleep, which is why I’m telling you to go ahead. I just need some time Ron.” His frown deepened and she saw he was about to object again, so she firmly added: “Alone.”

She saw his shoulders drop and knew her message had been received loud and clear this time. Ron’s confusion over her decision was obvious, but the tone of his voice was more demure when he replied: “Fine, just… just remember that you’re a part of the family now, ‘right? Come home to us, to the Burrow, when you’re done here.”

She forced a small smile at this and nodded her thanks before Ron turned to go after this older brother.

She saw Harry hesitate and gave him a tired but genuine smile. “It’s fine Harry, go on. I really just need to be alone for a bit.”

He deliberately took the few steps back towards her, his expression ranging from confused to upset. Without warning he pulled her into his arms for a very tight hug. “Just don’t disappear on us, ok? I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

She returned the hug and after momentarily tightening her arms, she took a step back.

He held her at arm’s length and waited until she met his eyes. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

A startled laugh escaped her at that. “Usually it’s me who’s telling you to be careful”, she replied with a grin.

“Yeah well… I guess it’s good to hear your own advice now and then.”

She nodded her consent and allowed Harry to gently pull her against his chest again. Hermione let her forehead rest against his collarbone for a while until they both pulled back. With a last sincere smile he turned around and started walking back to the castle. She remained standing there and watched her boys disappear behind the castle’s walls and then turned the other way.

She silently thanked them for not pressing too much. She was even partially grateful for Ron’s words about being part of the family and she felt warm after Harry’s obvious concern for her wellbeing. But she really, really needed some time to be by herself and think about all that had transpired the last day, days? She honestly couldn’t remember when she had last slept. _Before the battle? Before breaking into Gringotts? At Bill and Fleur’s place?_ Remembering the calming ocean’s sounds at the little beach, she let her feet carry her to the Black Lake.

Despite the upturned patches of earth and grass that remained after the fighting, the lake itself looked rather peaceful. Reaching the water’s edge, she sank down on the moist grass and stared into dark watery depths.

_They did it, it was over._ _She should be relieved, so why wasn’t she feeling like celebrating? Why couldn’t she feel anything remotely positive?_ She felt her emotions swirling towards the surface and her chest constricted painfully. Her heart felt like it was ripping itself apart with grief for those who had fallen. Images of the dead, some bodies maimed beyond recognition swam before her eyes. Gut-twisting scenes of blood staining the stones of the castle she once called her second home, flashes of hateful spells and soul-tearing cries, … Gritting her teeth, she reflexively curled up into a tight ball. She desperately tried to push the horrible imagines back down, but she was just so exhausted…

The longer she tried fighting them, the more she felt the edges of her consciousness being eclipsed. Unable to hold the memories off any longer, she succumbed to them. She barely registered the tears that were finally able to fall, blurring her vision of the rippling water before her. Until even that last grip on reality faded and she fell into an all-consuming darkness.

\---

Minerva McGonagall stood in the Headmaster’s office, staring wearily out the window. The hastily repaired glass panes were illuminated by the candlelight from within, while the beginnings of dusk painted the grounds in shades of grey. Her reflexion showed tired green eyes that were burdened with grief. Her normally tight bun had come undone somewhere during the last hours and long, coal-black hair was spilling out over her drooping shoulders. She noticed a few strands of grey in between the black and sighed. She certainly wasn’t the type to be vain, but quietly she lamented the little signs of age that were starting to show after having lived through a third war.

She studied her reflexion more closely for a moment. The grey strands of hair were thankfully few and widely dispersed and they reflected silver in the current light. The shadows accentuated her high cheekbones and proud features, but they also enhanced the small crow’s feet around her eyes and even a few wrinkles around her mouth that hadn’t been there the previous year. She didn’t look old per se and if she went out in the Muggle world, people would see a woman in her forties, but she was starting to feel the weight of her years. And mostly she felt the heavy burdens of the past day.

The transfiguration teacher and those who remained of the Hogwarts’ staff had done their utmost best to organise the post-battle turmoil. Fortunately they had been aided by a great number of trauma-team workers from St. Mungo’s, who had taken over the immediate care of the injured. A handful of Aurors had taken the captured Death Eaters, snatchers and despicable low-lives off their hands. Under the watchful eyes of Kingsley Shacklebolt they were taken into custody, awaiting trials and sentences. Minerva genuinely hoped that Kingsley would be up to the task of cleaning up the mess that was now the Ministry.

News of the Dark Lord’s demise had spread rapidly and many of his supporters had fled before they could be apprehended. Numerous witches and wizards had appeared at Hogwarts’ gates later on, willing to help with the battle’s aftermath. While she was grateful for the extra help, she couldn’t help but bitterly question where they had been when the battle had been fought. How many lives that could’ve been spared had those extra wands been aiding their desperate stand against that vile man.

Thank Merlin that he was finally gone, although she had demanded Albus’ portrait to confirm that this time Voldemort would remain dead. The painted versions of Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape had finally explained a lot to her. _Intelligence that could have benefitted their cause a great deal had she been privy to it sooner_ , she had yelled at them. Albus had even explained about Mr Potter being Voldemort’s final, unintended Horcrux. At this she had faltered and just stared at the portrait blankly. She had been forced to admit that she would have stopped the boy if she had known about his intentions of getting himself killed. Thankfully fate and, according to rumours, Narcissa Malfoy had intervened.

However, she would never forget the despair she had felt upon seeing the boy’s limp body in Hagrid’s arms. She was ashamed to admit that she had abandoned all hope at that point. Only to redouble her efforts on overtaking the Death Eaters when her Gryffindor cub had suddenly joined the fight once more.

Her cubs… she smiled wryly at the affectionate word. None of them were children anymore after this. She felt a great deal of pride at the vigour and courage her Gryffindors had displayed during the battle. She forced herself to see the true value of the Hufflepuff’s team spirit, who had remained in larger groups to take on opponents that would have easily bested them had they faced them individually. And the Ravenclaw’s highly efficient tactics on luring out and distracting the Giants had been a lifesaver for so many at the time. She had even witnessed some Slytherins among the tactical Ravenclaws and she was sure that, when questioned later, they had contributed to a number of cunning ambushes during the battle. If they ever got the school up and running again, she swore to herself that she was going to make them all see the strengths displayed in each house.

Before she could dwell on how to reunite the four Houses, her musings were interrupted by some movement in the distance. Allowing her animagus to emerge slightly, she focused cat-like pupils on the rippling water’s surface of the Black lake.

Some of the merpeople seemed to have gathered near the furthest embankment. Even from this distance she thought she recognized the merpeople’s chieftainess among those gathered and her identity was easily confirmed by the trident she held. The part of the weapon that was visible emanated a faint luminescent glow in the descending dark.

Others of her race were closer to the water’s edge and seemed to be inspecting something nearby. Minerva felt her heartrate pick up, already imagining a new horrific attack on the castle when something small on the banks became momentarily visible in the trident’s strange gleam. _No imminent attack then. Thank Merlin._ _But what could have drawn their attention?_ Despite her exhaustion, curiosity won and as she shifted the rest of her body into her feline form, she took off towards the banks of the lake.

While slipping through the front doors onto the castle’s grounds, she noticed dusk had turned swiftly into night and it was not for the first time that she was grateful for her feline night vision. Guided by multiple heads that were now poking out of the water, Minerva swiftly made her way towards the lake’s border.

When she could distinguish the yellow eyes and fish-like scales of the merpeople’s leader, she transformed back into her human form and approached the waterline. She halted her movements and bowed her head respectfully. The chieftainess returned the gesture before silently indicating a spot a little further down the lakeside. Frowning slightly, Minerva rose to her full length and looked over at where she had pointed. Almost completely hidden behind some shrubbery, she noticed something on the ground.

Drawing her wand out of her sleeve, she advanced on the shape and a softly spoken _Lumos_ illuminated the scene. Minerva could now distinguish the shape as a human being and she took a few long strides closer as her heart filled with dread. _I thought the grounds had been thoroughly searched for survivors and bodies alike. Godric knows I can’t handle any more losses..._

When she came close enough to take in the young woman’s face and familiar chestnut curls, the older witch almost dropped her wand in her frantic haste to reach her. “Miss Granger!” _No, no, no, no, no! Not her! She was alive! I saw her after the battle! She has to be alive!_

Minerva nearly fell to the ground at the girl’s side and reached out with shaking hands. When the transfiguration teacher turned the girl over onto her back, there was no reaction whatsoever.

“Miss Granger! Please wake up, lass!” Panicking now, she pushed trembling fingers against the younger woman’s throat and desperately searched for a heartbeat. Which she thankfully found almost immediately. Releasing a short, chocked exhale, she cradled her star pupil against her chest and rocked them both gently. “Bless the fates”, came the constricted whisper.

The older witch took a few deep breaths to compose herself, before she pulled back and looked intently at the young woman in her arms. She noticed the lighter trails on soot-stained cheeks, left by long dried tears. Patches of water darkened the girl’s clothes and a few strands of her hair were wet.

With some alarm, she took in chapped lips that had turned blue from the cold that was slowly spreading around the lake. Although she had already registered the luckily steady heartbeats, the girl’s breathing was a little uneven.

Grateful that the young Gryffindor was very much alive, Minerva waved her wand in delicate figures in the air to run a simple diagnostic spell. Small charts, diagrams and lines hovered in the air above the girl’s abdomen. While studying the medical data, confusion became apparent on the older witch’s features. The data didn’t reveal any serious injuries, Minerva noted with some relief, but it left her clueless about why her former student hadn’t woken up. Therefore she cast a featherlight charm on the unresponsive girl, gathered her in her arms and stood up, holding the girl bridal style up against her chest. _Poppy will figure out what’s wrong with her_ , she mused to herself.

Minerva was about to rush to the castle when a series of loud screeching noises drew her attention back towards the lake. The merpeople seemed to have watched the encounter and were now staring intently at both witches. The professor searched for the yellow eyes of their leader and addressed her in the basic Meremish she had picked up from Albus over the years. “Greetings to you, Chieftainess of the Black Lake”, she managed in their unusual shrill tongue.

She saw the mermaid flash a sharp-toothed grin at her and she cringed internally, knowing she probably had an accent as large as the lake they inhabited.

The chieftainess’ response was quite slow, probably to make sure Minerva could understand her. “Greetings shapeshifter. I am glad to see you among the living.” The yellow eyes actually held some warmth to emphasize the truth to her words.

_I should come speak with her more often after everything has settled down again_ , Minerva noted to herself. “Thank you for drawing my attention here. I will not forget this. I hope your people are unharmed?”

The mermaid’s pointy teeth became visible once more, but her grin was more menacing this time. “Few injuries and many full bellies. A Giant was taken to our depths by the squid and my people will feast on his flesh for many days to come.”

Minerva grimaced at this. _Spoils of war take on a different meaning for carnivores, I suppose…_ She was weighing her words, doubting how to respond to this without insulting their culture, when the chieftainess spoke again:

“We shall speak again at another time. Go. Take the young warrior to your halls to heal. She was out here for far too long and her mind needs time to heal.”

Minerva bowed as deeply as her aching muscles allowed while holding on tightly to the girl in her arms. In repose to her respectful gesture, all the merpeople inclined their heads before silently vanishing into the watery depths once more.

Turning on her heels, Minerva set a brisk pace towards the castle. With a little twirl of her wand, she cast a Patronus-messenger and sent it straight to Poppy Pomfrey, asking to meet her in the entrance hall. It wouldn’t do any good to let the people see one of the Golden Trio in such a dubious state. When rounding the castle’s corner, she saw light illuminating the gravel in front of the old oaken doors and the distinct figure of Madam Pomfrey waiting for them.

If Minerva had felt exhausted earlier, Poppy certainly looked the part. She knew the mediwitch had gotten help from the St. Mungo Healers and volunteers, but the witch had been attending countless wounded for the better part of a day. There was crusted blood and gore on every square centimetre of her once white apron and her hair was plastered against her forehead.

_She must be running on fumes_ , Minerva observed worriedly, but before she could comment on it, her capable colleague’s gaze had already locked on Hermione Granger’s still form. The mediwitch’s tired face betrayed some alarm when she recognised the girl and she quickly ushered both of them into the nearest room. Minerva transformed an old desk into a makeshift hospital bed and gently lowered her charge onto it.

Poppy had already started running an extensive medical analysis on her newest patient. Holding up a hand to her colleague, she swiftly stopped Minerva from uttering even a single syllable and focused on the medical readings that had appeared mid-air. Acknowledging that the nurse probably wouldn’t topple over in the next few seconds, Minerva stepped back and watched quietly. After a few seconds, she noticed a frown appear on the mediwitch’s features as she walked around to Hermione’s other side, looking for something. The nurse carefully lifted the sleeve of the girl’s sweater and the frown grew more defined. She started muttering some incantation while running her wand over the exposed lower arm and her frown deepened even further.

Curiously, Minerva leaned over to see what was happening. She reflexively sucked in a gasp of air when she saw the crude carvings on the otherwise pristine skin. Angry tears started to form in the older witch’s eyes at the sight, but she blinked to dispel them rapidly.

Looking up and meeting Poppy’s steady gaze, she saw the mediwitch shake her head. “I can’t get rid of them. There’s a curse on the scars, preventing them from fully healing. She is going to have to consult an expert on dark magic to remove them.”

Breaking the eye contact and taking an uneasy breath, the nurse continued: “Her body seems to be in shock, but the readings tell me it’s mostly from depleting her magical core and probably from exhaustion. It’s like her brain flipped the ‘off-switch’, forcing her body to put all remaining energy into healing. She has numerous bruises and scrapes, but nothing vital has been damaged. Her body temperature has dropped a little, but a simple heating charm should solve that as well. I have a couple others like her in my care at the moment and I expect most of them will be up and about in a few days.”

Looking back at Minerva, Poppy noticed the relief on her former Headmistress’ face, despite the rigid posture and the clenched fists shaking slightly at her sides. “Minerva, why on earth was Miss Granger of all people out there by herself?”

Keeping her expression and voice as levelled as she could, the professor responded: “I was under the impression that Miss Granger had left, along with Mr Potter and the Weasley family. It’s likely she stayed behind for some reason, though I do intend to speak to them about it if she’s not up and about come morning.”

Years of working alongside Minerva McGonagall, enabled the Healer to read the respected professor and she gulped at the hidden anger that shone through the neutral mask. Watching closely, the mediwitch saw the anger make way for compassion as green eyes settled on the unconscious figure before them. Minerva McGonagall suddenly looked every part like the great Gryffindor lioness, protecting one of her cubs. Poppy bit back a grin at the image and waited for Minerva to proceed.

“If all she needs is a bed and someone to look after her when she wakes up, I hope that you’ll agree that Miss Granger can stay in my quarters. Waking up in the crowded Hospital Wing will do her no good.”

Poppy Pomfrey merely raised an eyebrow at this. It would certainly be a first for the normally very stoic Minerva McGonagall to personally take care of one of her students. Looking at said student, she softened her expression. It certainly wasn’t just any student, she had to admit. Without this young woman and her two best friends, they would have lost the battle and, most likely, the entire war. Nodding, she placed a reassuring hand on the professor’s arm to get her full attention. “Very well, I agree that she might benefit from some peace and quiet and your rooms are certainly better equipped for that goal. Take some Health potions for when she wakes up, but make sure she eats something. While it’s not yet life-threatening, she is severely malnourished.”

With a slightly distraught voice, Minerva answered. “Thank you. I promise I will take good care of her.” Looking down at her smaller colleague, she managed a smile before adding: “And Poppy? Get someone to take over your duties for the night. It won’t do you any good either if you proceed until you collapse.”

After exchanging tired smiles, both women went their separate ways. Hermione’s unconscious body once again secure in the older witch’s arms.

Upon reaching her private quarters, Minerva entered the bedroom and carefully lowered her former student on her own four-poster bed, thankful for the fact that her rooms had been mostly spared from the damage from the battle. She transfigured the girl’s clothes into a comfortable nightdress and non-verbally applied _Tergeo_ to take the stains off of them. She retrieved the girls wand that had fallen from it’s owner’s sleeve and placed it next to the pillow, within easy reach should the girl wake up. She added the suggested heating charm and waved her own wand to pull up the blankets over the girl’s body for good measure.

The older woman sat down on the mattress next to her charge and studied the once so familiar features. Minerva noted the visible strain on the pale face and the definite weight loss. _Despite the obvious signs of having lived through a war, Miss Granger has grown into a lovely young woman,_ she mused. An affectionate smile softened the features of the usually stern professor before she turned away and stood up.

Walking back into her main living room, she observed the little damage from the battle that had shaken the castle. Only two panes of the large windows were cracked, some small stones had come loose from the mantle above the fireplace and a side-table had toppled over. A few waves of her wand and a _Reparo_ charm rectified the stones and glass and after another swish the table stood back in it’s former place. She walked to the adjacent kitchen and repeated the procedure.

Minerva was about to step into the guest bedroom after opening the closed door that gave entrance to those chambers, when she hastily held on to the doorframe. She had almost toppled right into a chasm that she had not anticipated.

Where the room was supposed to be, there was now a small crater, stretching from a large hole in the outer wall to what remained of the floor. She could see the remnants of what was once the guest bed sticking out of the rubble on the floor, one floor below her. Pulling her body back onto the thankfully still solid kitchen floor, she let her eyes roam over the wreckage. It became clear very quickly that nobody would be sleeping here anytime soon.

With a tired sigh, she closed the door again and spelled it shut with a _Colloportus_ for good measure. _Right, no second bed then_ , she mused wryly. She looked over at the loveseat in front of the fireplace and considered transfiguring it into a bed, since it was too small for her tall frame. The slow reaction of her magic made her realise that she too was running on fumes and she merely shook her head in silent acceptance.

She felt exhaustion wash over her and realised she was depleting her own magical reserves rather quickly on things that could probably wait until morning. She took off her outer robes and draped them over the backrest of the couch.

The need to preserve her magic drove her back to the master bedroom where Miss Granger seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Minerva silently gathered her nightclothes from a dresser and walked into the adjacent bathroom. A very enjoyable hot shower later the older witch emerged again, with sleepy eyes but feeling a lot lighter without all the grime from the battle. She spared the young woman in the bed another glance before walking back into the living room.

Seconds later a small tabby cat jumped onto the soft cushions of the seat and crawled under the convenient tartan plaid lying there. Minerva curled her feline body into a small ball of fur and folded her long tail over closing eyes. She was asleep within minutes.


	2. Meeting each other anew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> After all those nice comments I couldn't resist posting this next chapter a little earlier. It's a long one, so hopefully it'll tide you over untill next week ;-)  
> I've gotten a very usefull tip about separating my dialogues, so that's what I tried to do here. Not entirely sure about the result though, so if anyone can drop me a quick comment to let me know if it works or not, I would really appreciate it.

The first thing Hermione noticed when she woke were her sore muscles and raw skin and they made her groan in displeasure. The second thing she felt was the warmth and softness enveloping her. Which was quite fortunate because when she opened her eyes and didn’t recognise her darkened surroundings, she nearly panicked. Bolting upright she realised she was in a large bed and it confused her greatly. The agitated witch groped around under the soft blankets until she felt the familiar smooth wood of her wand and she immediately breathed a sigh of relief. She cast a silent _Lumos_ and took in the contours of a comfortable bedroom with some surprise. The door on her right opened a crack and a cat stumbled into the room on wobbly paws, blinking blearily against the light on her wandtip. Hermione lifted her wand higher and eyed the cat suspiciously, listening for any sounds behind the door from where it came. It wasn’t until the cat had gracefully jumped on the bed and was looking at her intently, that she recognised the rectangular markings and realisation dawned on her.  
‘P-Professor McGonagall?’, she stuttered at the feline.  
Loud purring suddenly emerged from the animagus and it butted it’s head against her covered knee, before it strode to the edge of the bed and transformed into a smiling Minerva McGonagall.  
‘Hello dear’, the transfiguration teacher answered with a twinkle in her emerald green eyes while patting the girl on the thigh.  
Minerva had just opened her mouth to say something else, when Hermione surged forward and threw her arms around the older woman’s shoulders. She heard a startled sound coming from the tall witch and intended to draw back when long arms folded around her midsection to return the hug. A strangled sob shook the relieved younger witch’s frame and she felt her professor’s arms tighten further around her. Hermione responded by simply melting into the comforting embrace and buried her face in the older woman’s neck. A hand came up to stroke her hair soothingly and soon she calmed down enough to whisper a heartfelt ‘I’m very glad to see you professor’, against said professor’s shoulder.  
‘As am I, Miss Granger. As am I’, came the equally sincere reply.  
They stayed like that for a few moments longer, before Hermione pulled back and quickly wiped away the stray tears on her cheeks. When she looked back at her professor, the older witch was smiling fondly at her and she felt herself blush a little in response. Luckily she barely had time have to feel embarrassed before McGonagall’s face turned a tad more serious and asked:  
‘How are you feeling dear?’  
Hermione’s brows furrowed before she replied: ‘Uhm… Fine, actually. A bit sore, but nothing serious.’  
The young woman frowned more deeply when she realised she wasn’t lying. The last thing she remembered was sitting down near the Black Lake and feeling like she was hit by cannonball. Which she knew didn’t happen fortunately, but she was getting confused over what had occurred that made her end up here, in what appeared to be Minerva McGonagall’s bed. The professor had apparently noticed her bewilderment over the situation and was quick to provide an explanation:  
‘Some of the merpeople found you on the banks of the lake and managed to draw my attention. When I reached you, you were unresponsive and I have to confess that you gave me quite the fright there, young lady.’ Bemused emerald eyes fixated on apologetic brown ones before she continued: ‘Madam Pomfrey examined you and diagnosed you with a depleted magical core and exhaustion. Both things should be easily fixed with a decent amount of rest, which I why I brought you here. Though I must admit that we hadn’t expected you to wake up until much later.’  
The last words were accompanied by a worried expression. Hermione smiled hesitantly and replied:  
‘I’m terribly sorry for causing you both such trouble. If I had known I was going to black out, I would have accompanied Harry and the Weasleys to the Burrow and taken up a bed there.’  
The transfiguration teacher rolled her eyes at that and fixed her former pupil under a stern gaze.  
‘Giving you a bed to sleep was hardly any trouble Miss Granger. You just had us worried, that’s all. As for anticipating your unconsciousness, well… I hardly believe that a woman of your intellect would have deliberately placed herself in a remote area, near a vast expanse of water when anticipating a ‘black out’, correct?’  
A thin eyebrow had quirked up and Hermione noticed some amusement in her teacher’s expression. The young witch felt that damned blush heat her cheeks again at the playful jab.  
‘Erm… No, indeed. I wouldn’t have done that intentionally.’  
The amusement on the older witch had now turned into a full smile which Hermione returned sheepishly.  
‘Very well’, her professor answered, ‘Thankfully your excursion didn’t put you in the hospital, so no harm done I suppose.’ McGonagall’s smile faltered a little before she continued: ‘Miss Granger… Might I inquire as for why you didn’t leave with the Weasleys? Surely they would have invited you and Mr Potter into their home?’  
Hermione lowered her gaze to her hands which had started fidgeting with the blankets she was still partially covered by.  
‘I… I wanted some time to myself. After everything that has happened and the battle and… I could barely think, I couldn’t process anything anymore. I just… I needed time to collect myself.’ She felt thin fingers wrap themselves around hers gently and she returned the pressure before adding: ‘And… They have just lost Fred. I… I wouldn’t want to impose on their time to grieve.’  
In her peripherical view, she saw McGonagall shake her head sadly. There was only compassion and no judgement in her teacher’s voice when she replied:  
‘I believe you know very well what Molly would say if she had known you felt that way. She would have gathered you in one of her characteristic hugs and apparated you right to the Burrow anyway. She would have silenced any protest by piling food in front of you all. Both you and Mr Potter were always quite dear to them and she probably knows that you grieve for Fred just as they are doing now.’ A tender hand carefully lifted Hermione’s chin, forcing her to meet empathic emerald eyes. ‘If you wish to join the Weasleys, I dare say that you would be most welcome, regardless of the circumstances.’  
The young Gryffindor averted her eyes again, swallowed audibly and nodded her understanding. Despite the truth in her professor’s words, she still wasn’t entirely certain if she felt like joining the redheaded family and her best friend.  
‘I’ll think about it’, the brunette replied hesitantly when she met her professor’s gaze after a moment. Again kindness and understanding was directed at her from those emerald green orbs and the young woman returned the earlier smile.  
‘Good’, came the reply, ‘They’ll miss you, I’m sure. And just so we’re clear, if you wish to stay here at the castle, that is perfectly fine as well.’ Hermione was already halfway to protesting that she wouldn’t want to take up the professor’s time and space, when the older woman managed to silence her with a single word:  
‘Hermione.’  
The respected professor very rarely addressed her students with their first name and hearing her speak it quite affectionately, startled Hermione so much that she completely forgot what she was saying. Apparently she really had stopped talking mid-sentence, because she felt fingers under her chin lift her jaw to close her mouth. Looking back at that moment later on, she knew it probably was quite comical, but Hermione honestly lost it when she saw the normally oh so strict professor smirk at her. Blushing fiercely now, she hid her face behind a hand and groaned. _Sweet Merlin, what is happening to me? I’m acting like a dumbstruck firstyear!_ Before she could dwell on her embarrassment, she felt the mattress they were both sitting on shake with McGonagall’s silent laughter. Looking back up at the other woman, she saw her former teacher making a valiant effort to hold back her laugh. Despite the absurdity of the situation, Hermione couldn’t help herself: she giggled. Which in turn shattered the older woman’s restraint and before long they were both laughing with unbridled mirth. The professor managed to compose herself first and was still wiping away tears of joy when she spoke gleefully:  
‘Ah! I see now that I should address my students with their first name more often if this is the result!’  
The exclamation resulted in another round of chuckles from both witches but eventually the transfiguration teacher steered their conversation back to where they left off:  
‘I was quite serious about inviting you to stay for as long as you may wish. You’re not imposing at all… And by Godric, it has been a while since anyone made me laugh like this.’  
Hermione sobered up at those words, realising the professor must have had a considerably hard year as well. Being powerless to stop Death Eaters from invading her beloved castle and torturing her students, must have been a daunting experience. The young woman was about to object again but Minerva beat her to it:  
‘It’s not out of pity that I’m giving you the option, if that’s what you’re worried about dear. It is because I, like many others, am so very grateful for what you and those two lads have managed to do for our world. Defeating the darkest wizard of our time and freeing us all from his oppression, was no small feat. We all owe you three our very lives and I’m quite sure I will not be the only one to extend my hospitality should any of you have need for it.’  
Hermione swallowed audibly to clear her constricted throat. _Alright, so maybe she really does mean it sincerely._ The older woman continued speaking, although a bit more hesitant:  
‘I’m also very sorry that I wasn’t there when you three could have probably used all the help you could get. I, like many of your former teachers here at Hogwarts, have tried to find you when the war started. Despite having educated you all for six years, none of us were able to even find even a breadcrumb of your trail. We resolved ourselves to protecting the students that were still under our care, but behind closed doors we never stopped looking. You can imagine our elation when you three suddenly showed up at the castle, battered and bruised, but very much alive. We are so proud of you three, and I speak for all of us when I extend the invitation to stay at Hogwarts and to just speak the words should you ever need anything. Anything at all.’  
The young Gryffindor fell quiet at the older witch’s words, feeling very overwhelmed. _That’s how others are going to look at us now, isn’t it? Harry Potter and his two best friends, the three heroes who defeated Voldemort._ Somehow the title didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t feel like a hero. _We were just three adolescents who were forced into completing an impossible task and only succeeded because of sheer dumb luck and the aid of a recently deceased potions master. Snape was the real hero here. And maybe Harry. He certainly had the heart of a true hero. Oh, he’s going to hate all the praise and attention he’s bound to receive when word of our endeavour comes out._ _And people are going to pester Ron and myself about the details of it too_ , she realised. She felt tears pooling in the corners of her eyes again when she imagined recounting all the horrific encounters they had barely survived this past year. A hand on her shoulder snapped her out of her spiralling thoughts and she looked up at the tall woman beside her. Once again she found such empathy displayed there and she knew the transfiguration teacher had meant every word. _We won’t be alone anymore. We have friends and allies again who are willing to help us._ _Though I doubt many would be so fiercely protective of us as this one,_ she mused while staring at her former Head of House. She threw the woman a grateful smile and gathered her thoughts until she could form a coherent sentence again:  
‘Thank you. I will take you up on your offer to remain at the castle for the time being. As for anything I need… I honestly don’t know. We’ve been living one day at a time, for almost a year now. None of us planned any further than the final confrontation with Voldemort. We didn’t expect to survive beyond that. I have absolutely no idea what I want anymore.’  
Silence fell, but only for a few moments, before the professor broke it:  
‘Might I make a suggestion?’  
Hermione simply nodded.  
‘Think small things first. For example: How does a warm bath sound? And some food?’  
The younger witch blinked owlishly until the recommendations actually registered in her hazy brain. _Oh Merlin, yes! Those things sound absolutely divine!_ She snickered out loud at a stray thought. She saw McGonagall raise an inquiring eyebrow at the sound and smirked before sharing her inner self-depreciation:  
‘Is that your way of telling me that I smell, professor?’  
She added a wink for good measure. _She made me blush profoundly not that long ago! I think it’s only fair to turn the tables, isn’t it?_ Seeing her favourite teacher stumble over her words to assuage the implication of suggesting a bath, Hermione broke out in clear laughter _. And that’s one point for me! Take that, professor!_ The woman in question realised fairly quickly that she’d been had and grinned at her former student. Shaking her head at her own idiocy, she raised herself to her full length and smiled down at the still laughing girl in the bed.  
‘Careful now lass, I’ve been told I’m a formidable verbal sparring partner, if that’s what you’re after here’, the Head of Gryffindor said with mirth in her voice. Hermione looked up at her and smiled sweetly before responding:  
‘I was only evening the fields after all that blushing you made me go through earlier. And I think I might enjoy some intellectual banter for a change. Though I must emphasize that it isn’t a challenge.’ The sweet smile turned into a devious grin and she continued: ‘It’s merely an “invitation to express my gratitude”.’ She couldn’t help it, she threw in another wink. At which professor McGonagall covered her eyes with one hand and sighed in mild exasperation. _This could be fun_ , Hermione thought to herself. A huge grin now plastered on her face.

After showing the girl the way to the bathroom and giving her explicit permission to take anything she might want, Minerva went to the main area. A few wand-movements later, the transfiguration professor was dressed in black robes, hair secured in a tight bun and the plaid she’d slept under was returned to it’s original folded shape. Another swish of her wand and a fire roared to life, dispersing the morning chill. Pleased that her magic had restored itself, she went to busy herself in the small kitchen. She found a small stack of letters waiting for her on the counter and sighed. She would ask Filius later to help with the multitude of correspondence the school was about to receive the coming days. She noticed a few letters addressed to Miss Granger and judging by the handwriting, they were send by Mr Potter, Miss Weasley and the Weasley matriarch. She set them apart and planned to hand them over once the girl had eaten. After setting up a tea tray she decided on preparing an early breakfast, since it was already nearing dawn. A small smile graced her lips when her mind reviewed the past conversation. _That cheeky witch!_ The girl had always been quick-witted, but she had never dared to openly tease her elders when she was still at school! Apparently a year on the run, in the company of two teenage boys, had made her bolder. It was a development Minerva had not foreseen, but she could only be delighted by it. Despite the girl’s insistence that she didn’t want to challenge her former professor, the older witch felt challenged. In the best of ways. She would be careful with returning the teasing of course, the girl had just been through a war after all, but it had been a while since the transfiguration teacher had felt this playful. _Good_ , she thought, _I believe we can both use some light-heartedness. Everyone deals with trauma differently and if some mild teasing aids us both, then I’ll put aside the stern persona for now._ Her musings were interrupted by an appreciative moan that suddenly sounded quite nearby. _How on earth did she manage to sneak up on me?! Aren’t I supposed to have enhanced hearing due to my animagus?_ Doing her best to hide her surprise, Minerva turned her head to look at the approaching witch and immediately noted the mischievous smile on the young woman’s face. The older witch almost dropped the frying pan in which she was preparing pancakes when she took in the rest of the girl’s appearance. Tight-fitted dark blue jeans and a simple black long-sleeved top with a moderate V-neck accentuated the young woman’s slender figure. _Dear me, Poppy was right, she has lost a lot of weight. In those clothes though, she looks like she’s going to have trouble keeping the boys at bay. She really has grown into a beautiful young woman._ Minerva noted that her former student was still barefooted and that her steps indeed didn’t make a single sound on the hardwood floorboards. _Hmm, interesting. A spell maybe?_ She decided to investigate her suspicions later and concentrated on finishing the last pancakes.  
‘Are you taking a page out of Molly’s book and trying to feed an army here?’, the young witch asked with a laugh in her voice.  
‘Can you blame me for trying to feed you back to health when you stand there showing off your mannequin figure?’, she replied with a raised eyebrow. The blush that followed her off-handed compliment, made the older witch laugh. Relenting, she pointed at the pancakes and added:  
‘Don’t worry lass, I’ll help you with these and any remaining will go to Poppy so she has something to snack on during her long hospital runs.’  
She handed an admittedly large tower of freshly made pancakes over to the brunette and grabbed plates and cutlery. Motioning the young Gryffindor to go ahead, she cast a silent _Finite Incantatem_ on the girl’s feet. Her hunch was rewarded with soft but now audible pads on the floor. The younger woman turned her head back towards her with an innocent expression and an inquiringly raised eyebrow.  
‘Something wrong professor?’  
_See? Cheeky!_  
‘Nothing my dear, just checking if I’m not losing my edge’, she replied with a smug grin.  
The girl continued carrying the pancake pile towards the table while she commented:  
‘If you’re worried about that professor, I can always try to keep you on your toes.’  
_Not a challenge huh? Hmm… We’ll see._ They placed the necessities on the table and each took a seat before diving in.  
‘By all means, please do. However, I must ask you to remember that there’s a time and place for sharpening my instincts?’  
That mischievous glint appeared in hazel eyes again and the reply was swift:  
‘You mean, you’d rather not have me startle you in front of, say… the Minister?’  
Minerva almost chocked on her food and had to forcefully gulp down a piece of pancake with her tea. Drawing in a breath of relief, she glared at the woman over her silver spectacles. Laugh lines were visible, but otherwise her table companion was acting all innocent. _Alright, fine, let’s just see where this goes._  
‘Challenge accepted Miss Granger! Though I must warn you that if Kingsley becomes the new Minister, he won’t tell a living soul about any stunt you manage to pull on me in his presence. I simply have too much dirt on the man to retaliate.’  
She knew the grin she was displaying was very mischievous as well, for she had the girl’s full attention now. She decided to emphasize her point: ‘I have quite some dirt on most of my former students, now I come to think of it.’  
The girl’s eyes narrowed in response to the veiled threat, but another smile wiped the expression off swiftly.  
‘Duly noted. Of course professors Sprout and Flitwick might be persuaded with evening the field on that one, since they both advocate fair play and all.’  
By now, both witches were grinning at each other. Both planning small pranks and anticipating some light teasing to brighten their day. _We’re going to need it once we enter the chaos that awaits downstairs._ Looking over at her young guest, Minerva wondered what the girl intended to do now that she was free again to do as she pleased. Said girl was just putting down her cutlery after wolfing down an impressive total of five pancakes and reached for her cup of tea with a content sigh. _Wands be damned, I’ll just see how she reacts._ Minerva forced her face to stay neutral while she moved her wand in a small arch under the table. The effect was instantaneous as the girl almost spit out the sip she had just taken. Accusing brown eyes locked on gleeful green ones and suddenly both of them were laughing uncontrollably.  
‘Ooh! A tea sweetening charm! I never realised you could overdo it’s effects! You’ll have to teach me that one someday!’  
Minerva was still reeling in her laughter when she replied: ‘With pleasure my dear! Though I’m afraid I must admit that I discovered that side-effect entirely by accident!’ The implications of that admission had both of them laughing again and the transfiguration teacher was glad to see she had assessed the girl’s tolerance of small pranks correctly. _Thank Merlin. It could have been very awkward if the lass hadn’t appreciated my sense of humour. Although I should probably check some boundaries…  
_‘Miss Granger, could you do me a favour and rate my pranks with a number between 0 and 10 so I can get a feel for what you might find amusing? I have no intention of overstepping, but I must admit I haven’t the foggiest clue about your usual sense of humour.’  
Her young table companion nodded and seemed to consider her answer:  
‘A seven. But if you had added lemon taste instead of sugar, it would’ve only yielded a four.’  
Minerva grinned at her student.  
‘An extensive answer to a simple question. Just like I came to expect from my star pupil.’  
The girl blushed again and Minerva smiled warmly at her. _She’s still not used to flattery it seems. Maybe I can help her along with that later too._ Sipping her own tea, the transfiguration teacher glanced over at the clock on the mantlepiece and instantly sighed. _6.35 a.m. The others will be up and about soon too._  
‘Despite the lively morning we’re having, I’m afraid I have to leave shortly and take stock of the castle’s current state. Oh, and you should have a look at some correspondence that has arrived for you.’  
She summoned the three letters from the kitchen and handed them over. Minerva finished her tea quietly, allowing the girl to read in peace. When she was done, she stood up and called for an elf. ‘Mistress called?’, came a squeaky voice from an elderly elf who stood with hands clasped at his back.  
‘Good morning Demby. Could you please check if the other professors are awake and ask them to meet me in the Great Hall in twenty minutes?’ The elf bowed with a little stilt, at which Minerva frowned, but he had already disappeared with a loud ‘crack’.  
‘Is he your elf professor?’  
Minerva looked over her shoulder to see Hermione observing her pensively. She bit back a smile as she remembered the girl’s actions with S.P.E.W.  
‘No, he isn’t. Over the years I’ve simply come to know many of the Hogwarts’ house elves. Demby has been in this castle for longer than I have.’  
She noticed the girl’s curiosity but before either could elaborate, there was another ‘crack’ and Demby reappeared, notifying her that all professors except professor Slughorn and Trelawny would be present. _Horace is probably still asleep and Sybill must still be in the infirmary._ Before the elf could disapparate again, Minerva placed a hand on his small shoulder to stop him. The elf turned to the tall witch and stared at her shoes uncomfortably until she gently lifted his chin with her other hand. ‘Demby, I bid you to answer me truthfully. Are you in pain?’ Demby’s ears fell down a bit, before he dropped his gaze and nodded. ‘Will you allow me to heal you?’  
His ears perked up again and he looked wide-eyed at the transfiguration teacher.  
‘Mistress shouldn’t …’  
Minerva interrupted him.  
‘I am not your Master Demby, but I do care for your wellbeing. You’ve taken care of me in the past when I was sick, I only ask to repay the favour.’  
The elderly elf dropped his head, but nodded after a few moments of silence. With a swish of her wand, the transfiguration teacher drew up a medical chart. Charts and statistics hovered above his head and she examined the readings. She heard Hermione make a noise when they both noticed the red line that indicated the elf had two broken ribs. Ignoring her pupil for the moment, she turned her full attention back on the little elf and told him to hold on to her hand to steady himself. At the clearly articulated _Episkey_ , Demby gave a little lurch, before prodding his newly healed ribs. The little elf started stuttering his thanks, but Minerva held up a hand to forestall him.  
‘No need. I’m glad I could help.’  
Bowing down so low that his long nose touched the ground, Demby disappeared again with an enthusiastic ‘crack’.  
Minerva was still staring at the spot where the elf stood seconds ago, when she was pulled out of her thoughts by Hermione.  
‘That was very kind of you professor.’  
There was such warmth in the girl’s voice that Minerva almost blushed. Their eyes met and she could see gratitude and respect projected at her. Which made her blush come through entirely, so she quickly changed the subject. Gesturing vaguely to the opened envelopes, she asked:  
‘Might I inquire to the nature of those letters?’  
Hermione’s light frame sank back into the cushioned chair and she held up the letters on by one.  
‘One from Harry asking where I am and if I’m alright.’ She let the paper drop back on the tabletop. ‘One from Ginny asking if I want to talk.’ The letter drifted down as well. ‘And one from Molly Weasley, giving me some motherly advice about taking plenty of rest and asking me to join them for dinner.’ The last piece dropped on top of the small pile and Hermione sighed, looking drained. ‘I’m grateful to have friends worrying about my wellbeing, but I’m still not so sure about joining them…’ The young Gryffindor had gotten a faraway look and Minerva frowned at the girl’s words. She was grateful for the joyous moments together this morning, but it appeared reality had caught up with them.  
Watching the younger woman with some trepidation, she tried to see if there was anything she could do to help:  
‘What would you like to do?’, she asked as neutral as possible, while actually being curious about the answer. The girl closed her eyes at the question and her posture became more tense, before she replied a single word:  
‘Move.’  
Confused, Minerva raised her eyebrows at the younger witch.  
‘I beg your pardon?’  
The corner of Hermione’s mouth quirked up, but her eyes remained closed as the girl explained:  
‘I want to move. My body is still adjusted to running. For almost a year, we’ve been on the run. Switching campsites every day, hiding from the Ministry and the occasional Snatchers, holding off Dementors, fighting our way out of quite a few tight spots, escaping Death Eaters…’  
The girl chocked on the last two words and Minerva noticed her scratching the arm where she knew that horrendous scar was hidden.  
‘Logically I know that it’s over. That Harry defeated Voldemort. But I’m starting to feel antsy again and my body responds to that fear in the same way it has been doing for months: Attempting to fight or preferably run like hell.’  
Hermione had opened her eyes and was staring at the ceiling now. Tears had started flowing over pale cheeks again and she wiped at them angrily.  
‘My apologies, I don’t usually cry this much.’  
She sounded disgusted by her inability to keep it dry. Minerva walked over to Hermione’s seat and lowered her body to sit next to the young witch. Placing a hand over the girl’s trembling ones that were clasped tightly in her lap, she spoke softly:  
‘I cannot begin to imagine what it was like for you three. Being cut off from your friends and family and avoiding all human contact, not knowing who to trust. Staying alive for one day at a time, while hunting for dark artefacts…’  
Hermione gave a startled cry, but she forestalled her.  
‘Yes I know about that. But I’ve only known since yesterday evening after hexing the truth out of Albus’ and Severus’ portraits. Had I been informed earlier I would have done everything in my power to help you.’  
Minerva’s voice had gotten a bitter edge, at which Hermione took the elder witch’s hand between hers.  
‘Professor you didn’t know. Harry and professor Dumbledore had their reasons for keeping that information close to heart, as I’m sure you can understand.’  
The younger witch made eye-contact again before adding:  
‘I also happen to know that you and some of the other teachers were facing life-sentences in Azkaban for undermining the Carrows, but you did so anyway to protect the students. Please don’t ever blame yourself for something that was out of your hands. Because frankly I believe that it’s mostly thanks to you and the others that we actually had a world left to save.’  
Minerva gulped audibly at her pupil’s words, making them both look away awkwardly. After a few moments, she softly squeezed the hands holding her own, before retracting hers and standing up. Looking down at her nervous student, Minerva decided that she would do all she could to nurse the young woman back to heath, both physically and mentally.  
‘Hermione…’  
The girl looked up into intense green eyes and smiled at the use of her first name. With a bit of her Scottish accent seeping through, the elderly witch continued:  
‘If you ever feel the need to talk about your experiences, or anythin’ at all for that matter, I’d like you to know that I’d be honoured and willing to guard your secrets, if you so desire. I have lived through three wars, so I believe I can offer some insight in dealing with the emotional aftershocks. On that note, I also believe that we’ve both reached our limits talking about such heavy subjects for now?’ The girl nodded eagerly, relief plain on her face.  
‘I figured. Here’s what I can offer you: if you don’t feel like going to the Weasleys just yet, you are welcome to remain in the castle, as I’ve offered earlier.’  
Another nod, though more hesitantly. Minerva started pacing in front of the fire, considering her next words:  
‘I will not ask you to do anything at all, but since you mentioned your restlessness, I believe I have a task that will keep your mind from wandering and give you a purpose for now.’  
The sceptically raised eyebrow made the corner of Minerva’s mouth quirk up.  
‘You saw Demby earlier: continuing to serve his masters, even while injured. I ordered the elves yesterday to take care of their own first, but since I’m not the Headmistress, they apparently chose to disobey me. I need someone to go down to the kitchens and report to me about how they are doing. And to look after the ones who are still wounded from the battle. I don’t want any more deaths if they can be avoided…’  
Minerva had a worried look plastered on her face after that admission and was lost in thought for a moment. The resolute voice of the brunette brought her back to earth:  
‘That would be great actually.’  
Minerva faced her former student again, still worried, but mildly hopeful.  
‘Miss Granger, let’s be clear that I don’t intend to pressure you. I can always ask others to…’  
She was interrupted by the determined girl:  
‘No. Honestly, I want to help. And you’re right: it would help get me through the day if can make myself useful.’  
Minerva gave her a sincere smile and responded:  
‘Very well, but promise me that you will not overexert yourself or Madam Pomfrey will skin me alive.’  
An amused glance from the girl followed that statement but she nodded her consent. The older woman returned the smile before elaborating on the task:  
‘Most of the house-elves will be down in the kitchens, which you can enter through the basement. Find the portrait of the fruit bowl and…’  
‘And tickle the pear, which starts giggling and the entrance appears’, Hermione finished the explanation with a little grin.  
Minerva responded with an amused look of her own.  
‘Of course the girl who founded S.P.E.W. would know how to find the house-elves. I should have known.’  
Said girl was still smiling at her with an unreadable expression but after a few moments she broke the eye-contact and asked:  
‘Can you teach me how to pull up that medical chart? I have a feeling I might need it to make sure the elves don’t downsize their injuries.’  
‘Of course. The spell is _Corpore Descriptans_ and you only need to look and point your wand at the person you wish to perform it on. When working on non-humans, you do need to make sure you give the spell your undivided attention. Here, give it a go.’  
The transfiguration teacher indicated her own tall body. The young Gryffindor reached for her wand and pointed it at the woman in front of her. A mere second later, the tip of the wand was glowing and Minerva felt a soft tingling as the spell took the required information from her.

Hermione breathed out slowly as she felt the new spell take hold and focussed on the words that were now hovering in the air between them. Professor McGonagall was pointing out paragraphs in the readings and quickly covered their appliances. Hermione absorbed the information with an ease that warmed her from deep within. Falling back into a student role felt so familiar and the overachiever part of her brain kicked in, highlighting essentials: General information: Human. Female. 62 years old. _What?! I knew that witches and wizards age differently from Muggles, but I’d always thought Minerva McGonagall to be in her early forties. I must be one of the very few students who now knows the professor’s actual age!_ The flashing charts drew her attention back to the spell: Physical stats: All healthy, apart from the expected post-battle scrapes and bruises they would all carry for a while. Emotional status: mild nervousness. _Wait, what?_ She shot a curious glance at her professor but couldn’t point out any nervous behaviour. Filing away that information for later, she skim read through the rest of the stats and ended the spell. She heard the older witch chuckle before she was addressed again.  
‘First attempt and ready to go. I must admit I rather missed your efficiency in class Miss Granger.’  
Hermione felt another blush creep up her neck and averted her gaze. _What is up with me? Surely I’ve been praised for my academic feats before? Maybe it’s because it’s been over a year since a teacher has done so?_ Deciding that must the case, she merely nodded and helped with clearing the table as they both got ready to face the day. At 6.50 a.m. Hermione was about to open the door leading to the adjacent hallway, when the older witch halted her.  
‘I’ll be called to attend business all over the castle from the moment I exit this room, so if you need to find me, best send a Patronus and I’ll come to you.’  
Hermione gave the other woman a worried look as she realised that despite their earlier playful bantering, the older witch was about to shoulder a lot of responsibilities in dealing with the aftermath from the battle.  
‘Professor? Shouldn’t you take it easy as well?’  
She let the words hang in the air between them. A smile that didn’t reach the emerald eyes above it was her only answer. The older witch straightened her back and was already walking out into the hallway, when a gentle voice reached her ears for the last time that morning:  
‘Oh and Miss Granger? Make sure to let your friends know that you’ll be staying for a bit longer. I don’t think it’s wise to worry them needlessly.’  
Hermione simply gave a small nod and watched her professor leave. Standing aimlessly in the middle of the corridor, she mused to herself: _Ok, no dwelling. Enough things to do around here. I can do this. Right? Right._ Sigh. _Alright, the owlery first then._ Due to the early hour and her expansive knowledge of the many hidden shortcuts, which thankfully were still mostly intact, she managed to avoid other people on her way outside. Cresting the stone steps leading up to the outer building, she entered a windy room and was greeted with the rustle of wings and the pungent smell of owl droppings. Conjuring a sheet of paper and a pen out of thin air, she quickly scribbled down a note: ‘Dear Harry, Thank you for checking up on me, but I’m fine really. I’ll be staying in the castle for a while longer as I wish to assist the professors here. I somehow don’t feel like being passive, to which I’m sure you can relate. Give my regards and deepest sympathy to the Weasleys. I miss Fred as well. Love, H.’ With a whispered word she shrank and rolled up the short letter and walked over to a nearby owl who dutifully extended his leg. She watched the bird soar gracefully through a window and made her way back to the castle.  
Soon she was walking down the basement corridor and spotted the portrait that gave entrance to the kitchens. She wasted no time in making the pear giggle, passed under the newly revealed archway and … she stopped dead in her tracks. The large kitchen space looked like hell. Where the four long workstations once stood that corresponded to the house tables in the great hall above, she saw makeshift benches with numerous house-elves lying on top. Most seemed to be badly injured, unconscious or worse… Many of the more fortunate elves were attending to their needs and a few others had secured an intact spot on the sides to prepare food. Not knowing where to even start, she hesitated until she felt a tug on her sleeve. Looking down she noticed Demby standing beside her and smiled at the elderly elf, who addressed her:  
‘What can we do’s for the missus?’  
Biting back a retort about how they should prioritise themselves, she knelt down on one knee to look the elf in the eyes.  
‘Actually, I was hoping I could help you. I was hoping you’ll allow me to treat your injured as professor McGonagall did for you.’  
The elf started fidgeting and looked over to the workspace and then to the makeshift cots. Repressing her anger at his priorities, Hermione reluctantly tried for a middle ground:  
‘I might be able to repair some of the damage here so you can better separate your working area from where I would like to attend to your friends. I don’t want to be in your way, but I rather insist on healing those who need it.’  
Two other elves had joined them while she spoke and looked at her nervously. One who looked like he had been stirring a pot as indicated by some soup remnants on his apron, asked:  
‘Missus Granger promises to lets us work and not tricks us into taking clothes?’  
Hermione sighed. Of course they remembered.  
‘I promise I will not give clothes to any elf that doesn’t want to be freed. I learned my lesson all those years ago and I apologise for not listening to you then.’  
The three elves exchanged some glances, before Demby spoke to her again: ‘If the missus could repair the stones of the Gryffindor table, we will moves hurting elves to the other three.’  
Hermione nodded and let her eyes travel over the wreckage.  
‘Is it ok if I give you some mattresses to put them on first?’  
The three nodded with enthusiastic smiles. _Alright_ , she thought to herself, _apparently they do like it when you give them the final choice. I must remember to thank the professor for showing me how it’s done_. Looking around, she spotted a torn towel with a Hogwarts crest barely visible in one corner and summoned it to her hand. With a few muttered words and a wide sweep of her wand, the towel was repaired, somewhat cleaner and transformed into an elf-sized comfy mattress. After quite a lot of _Gemini_ charms, they were almost buried in a pile of the things. Smiling apologetically, Hermione gave another flick of her wand and the mattresses floated to the nearby kitchen wall and rearranged themselves into orderly piles. More elves had come over by now and they swiftly started moving the makeshift beds and carefully placed their kin on them. Marvelling at their efficiency, Hermione turned her attention to what was left of the Gryffindor worktable. It looked as tough a Giant had decided to sleep on it: the stone was cracked and pieces were scattered all around. Waiting patiently until the elves had cleared the area, she cast _Reparo Maxima_ at the rubble and watched as the stones and debris pieced itself together. Moments later a long granite workbench stood shining proudly once more and the elves gave a delighted cheer before loading the table with ingredients and got started on preparing breakfast. Panting slightly after the strain of the consecutive spells, she placed her hands on her knees to regain her breath. A tray with water, pumpkin juice and light sandwiches appeared on a large piece of rock next to her. Startled, she looked up to a smiling female elf who was chopping vegetables closest to her.  
‘Missus should eats a little to recover her strengths’, was the only explanation before the elf focused on her task again. Gratefully, Hermione sat down cross-legged on the floor next to the tray and observed the bustle around her. Taking a big gulp of water and picking up a delicious-looking sandwich, she mused to herself: _How strange that this is what makes them happy._ She’d never understood the servant attitude, but had to admit the mood in the kitchen had brightened considerably after partially fixing their workspace. After a while she felt her strength return and hauled herself up from the floor to walk over to the first of the injured. The young elf’s face was contorted in pain and his breathing was shallow. Her whispered _Corpore Descriptans_ made him focus his big eyes on her and she smiled at him reassuringly.  
‘Hello there. I’m going take a look at what’s hurting you and then I’ll try to have you up and about as soon as possible. Does that sound ok to you?’  
The elf nodded hesitantly and shut his eyes tightly. Following the readings on the medical chart, she whispered _Episkey_ for the broken sternum. She then chanted a healing charm she had picked up from watching the Healers after the battle. It encouraged the lung tissue to knit itself back together again, speeding up what would otherwise be a much longer healing process. Once she was done, the youngling moved his hands to touch his slender chest and blinked up at her with wonder. Before she could tell him to take it slow for a bit, the elf had jumped up and bended over in a deep bow and exclaimed his thanks. With a loud ‘crack’ he disapparated and she was sure she saw him hauling a large cooking pot on the other side of the room. With a bemused shake of her head, she moved to the elf on the next mattress. _This is going to be a long day_ , she thought to herself, but she already felt so good about helping these wonderful creatures and decided that that would be enough for now.

Minerva was descending the stairs towards the Great Hall while quickly assessing the damage the staircases had taken. About one third had at least a few, if not all steps missing and others had simply stopped moving mid-air, leading towards nothing but specks of dust that were glistening in the early morning light. For a moment she was struck by the odd beauty of the scene and acknowledged the fact that she was grateful to be alive and part of a world where she could be enamoured by simple things like this. She also acknowledged the fact that, if it wasn’t for the company she had this morning, she would be in a more subdued mood. With a small smile she started walking again and heard the conversation downstairs grow louder as she drew nearer. The other Hogwarts staff members were huddled together near the entrance of the Great Hall. When she descended the last steps, she smiled encouragingly at her colleagues and took in their appearance. All seemed to have taken the opportunity to clean up and rest a little, but most were still displaying a variety of injuries. Some appeared to have sustained only small scrapes and bruises much like herself, but Aurora Sinistra had her arm in a sling and Septima Vector was being supported by their librarian, Irma Pince, to alleviate the pressure on her splinted leg. They were all looking at her expectantly and internally Minerva sighed tiredly at the leadership mantle they would bestow upon her once more. _Maybe I could try to turn this into a co-operative?_  
‘Good morning everyone and thank you for meeting me here. Let’s find us some room to sit so we can talk.’  
A grateful look was shot her way by professor Vector and Madam Pince wasted no time in guiding their colleague towards the nearest bench. The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables had been mostly restored the previous day but apart from their little group, they were deserted. Everyone had been redirected to the Hospital Wing, St. Mungo’s or they simply went home after the battle. Minerva found that the presence of almost all her colleagues said a lot about their characters. After everyone had found a place to sit and settled down, Minerva spoke up again:  
‘First things first: How is everyone holding up?’  
She saw an array of expressions directed at her after that question. Aurora and Septima looked grateful for the inquiry and gave reassuring shrugs. Madams Pince and Hooch were eyeing her sceptically for not launching straight into business and Filius and Pomona shot her a covert grin. _They probably know I’ll try to hold off the Headmistress position for as long as I can. Maybe one of them could give it go?_  
‘We’re fine Minerva, but the inquiry is appreciated anyway’, came professor Vector’s reply. A side-door opened and all heads turned to see Poppy Pomfrey walking over to join the group.  
‘Fine?’, the mediwitch exclaimed with an exasperated tone. ‘Fine? Septima, your leg was broken in two places and since you’re allergic to some of the components of Skele-Gro, I can’t treat you appropriately. You should be upstairs and resting as I had ordered you yesterday!’  
Septima Vector just raised a defiant eyebrow but didn’t reply. The mediwitch turned her gaze to Aurora Sinistra and continued:  
‘The same goes for you Aurora. If I see you moving that arm, I swear I’ll put a full body bind curse on you until it’s healed.’  
A grimace appeared on the Astronomy teacher’s face in response to the Healer’s words. They all knew Poppy well enough to know it wasn’t an idle threat. Professor Vector was quick to diffuse the tension:  
‘Calm yourself Poppy, we’re no fools. We know better than to anger you but I’m sure there will be things we can help with without overexerting ourselves.’  
The mediwitch crossed her arms sceptically but sat down on the bench next to Minerva, apparently letting her former patients off the hook for now. She eyed the older witch next to her and seemed to be weighing her words before asking:  
‘Who’s keeping an eye on your guest Minerva?’  
Much to the surprise of all gathered, a smile appeared on the transfiguration teacher’s face when she answered:  
‘There’s no need for that Poppy. She’s already up and about. Our worries seemed to be unnecessary.’  
That statement got her a raised eyebrow from the mediwitch but the other staff members were shooting her confused and curious glances. She sighed silently before elaborating:  
‘Hermione Granger has decided to stay in the castle for the time being. She is down in the kitchens trying to persuade the house elves to take it easy for a while.’  
The words had barely left her mouth when suddenly food started to appear on the table they were sitting on. Not an extensive assortment, but it was obvious the house elves were still doing their best to feed the castle’s inhabitants. The entire group erupted in spontaneous chuckles at the timing and shot their Gryffindor colleague an amused glance when she added:  
‘Ah… It appears that Miss Granger is encountering the foolhardiness of our house elves, wouldn’t you agree?’  
The lazy grin that accompanied her words earned her a contemplative look from Poppy. Before Minerva could ask what was on the woman’s mind, Filius enthusiastically exclaimed:  
‘Well then. Let’s not let their hard work go to waste. Dig in everyone!’  
Minerva watched with a fond smile how her friends and colleagues loaded up their plates and seemed to enjoy their breakfast. She poured herself some tea and nibbled on a biscuit in the companionable silence.  
‘Would you like a strawberry muffin Minerva?’, Pomona Spout tried to tempt her from across the table after a while.  
‘While those muffins do look delicious Pomona, I’m afraid I must decline. I already ate.’  
Poppy Pomfrey scoffed at her words and replied:  
‘Yes, because we all believe you when you say you take good care of yourself. Minerva McGonagall, the witch who loses four pounds every summer because she forgets to eat if the Hogwarts elves don’t leave dinner in her room.’  
Minerva flushed red at the other witch’s words and tried to save face:  
‘I lose weight during the summer months because I go hiking in the Scottish Highlands! Not because I forget to feed myself! And if you must know, it was at your insistence to feed Miss Granger, that I prepared breakfast for the girl. I even have some leftovers to tide you over during the day. Although, if you believe I don’t eat enough, maybe I should keep these myself?’  
She conjured the small stack of leftover pancakes and put them in front of the mediwitch, who immediately claimed the plate.  
‘I take back my accusations, Minerva, no need to let these go to waste.’  
They all laughed at the sight of the mediwitch who was appreciatively eyeing her favourite breakfast dish. The staff members returned their attention to their own plates and conversation started in smaller groups. Pomona Sprout looked up from her own plate to the former Headmistress and asked:  
‘You cooked breakfast for Miss Granger then? It seems taking care of the young woman put you in a surprisingly good mood.’  
Minerva was mildly confused over the observation and it must have shown, because the Herbology professor explained herself:  
‘You called a meeting with the entire staff early in the morning, as we had all anticipated. But instead of jumping straight into what needs to be done, you ask how we’re doing and sit us down to have breakfast. Fifteen minutes and not a single word about the state of the school or the work that needs to be done. You even threw in a small joke about the house elves’ priorities and teased poor Poppy here over withholding those delicious-looking pancakes.’  
Minerva shot a sideway glance at said pancakes and Poppy subtly drew them even closer to her side. The three of them chuckled at the playful response and Pomona continued:  
‘Before you joined us here, we were in a rather grim mood, focussed on the losses from the battle instead of the gains. We all know you’re a good leader Minerva, but even Albus wouldn’t have managed to dispel the glumness as effortlessly as you just did. Thank you for that.’  
They only realised the other conversations had died down and everyone was listening in when Pomona’s words were followed by a chorus of ‘Aye’ and ‘Well said’ and ‘Yes, thank you’ from the others. Minerva swallowed at the praise, not knowing how to respond. Filius Flitwick spoke up before she could recover:  
‘As you can see Minerva, we could all benefit from your leadership once more. I know you are reluctant to take up the Headmaster position again, but someone has to and you are the one most qualified for the job.’  
Consensual nods followed his statement before Minerva could protest and he continued quickly:  
‘Look, as a consensus we could all try to shoulder some of the responsibilities in the coming days, but we don’t even know where to start and someone has to coordinate the tasks at hand.’  
_So much for that co-op_ , Minerva grumbled to herself. She tried a different tactic:  
‘Fine, I’ll coordinate. But I want you all involved in the decision-making. Hogwarts is home to us all and if we’re going to rebuild it, I want it to be a team-effort.’  
More nods of agreement followed.  
‘So we are going to rebuild then?’, Aurora asked. After a quick glance at Minerva, Pomona answered:  
‘I don’t see why not? Maybe we could even try to make some improvements now that we have the opportunity? I’ve been wanting to make some adjustments at some of the greenhouses and now that a few of them are flattened, I intend to reconstruct them so I can actually put my plants in a healthy symbiosis. I would appreciate to not having to beat back the Devil’s Snare if I want to harvest some potion ingredients.’  
Minerva smiled at the herbology professor. Three years ago, Minerva had indeed wanted to harvest some Dittany upon returning from St. Mungo’s after being hit by three stunners. Harvesting the Dittany leaves was quite simple, but because of its preference for dark places, it shared a corner with Devil’s Snare and the damned plant had almost gotten her entangled. She had suggested moving the deathly plant to another location upon which Pomona had explained that she simply didn’t have anywhere else to put it. Pulling her attention back to the present, Minerva heard Filius suggest some fireproof materials for reinforcing the Charms classroom and Aurora was considering a completely different layout for her Astronomy lessons. _Maybe now they’ll see they don’t need me at all to make those decisions_ , Minerva thought hopefully. Unfortunately it wasn’t in her stars today. After five more minutes of listening to her colleagues’ plans for the future, she was forced to bring their attention back to more pressing matters:  
‘Alright everyone, I suggest we keep thinking about those improvements but maybe we should start with some other things?’  
Seven grins were flashed in her direction and she suddenly had a feeling they had been waiting on her to call them out. _Those bastards wouldn’t…_  
‘Ah yes, of course Minerva. I believe we got a bit carried away there. What do you suggest we do first?’, Filius prompted with a smile.  
_They would… For Merlin’s sake, they’re luring me out on purpose!_ Minerva gave them an exasperated look which they all returned with fond smiles. _Alright, alright, back into the saddle then.._. She sighed before setting out her plan:  
‘Very well, here’s what I believe we should do first…’  
Ten minutes later they had dispersed and set out for their first tasks on restoring the castle.

Hermione stood doubled-over and was struggling to catch her breath. She was fighting her exhaustion after healing so many house elves that she had lost count. She needed a break but when she looked at all the elves that were still lying there, she really wanted to push through and just proceed. When her breathing had calmed down again she straightened up, but before she could even raise her wand, she felt a little tug at her sleeve. Looking down, she saw Demby had approached her.  
‘Missus has been very kind to us. Many elves are very happy that missus has healed us. But Demby sees missus being very tired. So Demby has come to tell missus to go up to the Great Hall and eat lunch with mistresses and masters.’  
Hermione gave the elf a tired smile.  
‘Thank you for caring for me Demby, but I think I can heal a few others before I need to rest.’  
The elf was already shaking his head vigorously before she had finished speaking.  
‘No, no, no. Demby knows missus is a Gryffindor and Gryffindors are very brave. But Gryffindors are also very, very stubborn and sometimes elves needs to help them. Demby has seen it in Mistress Minerva. Gryffindors forget to eat and elves needs to help them stop working.’  
Hermione stood there, staring open-mouthed at the elf _. So professor McGonagall has a tendency to overwork herself too huh? I shood keep an eye on her in the following days to prevent the poor woman from doing just that. But I’ve only been at it for a few hours, so I should be able to do a little more, right?_  
‘I promise you I feel fine Demby. Let me heal a few more of your friends and I’ll …’  
The old elf started stomping his little feet in frustration and interrupted her:  
‘Missus Granger is being a stubborn Gryffindor! Missus Granger should listen to Demby! Demby means well! Demby is going to make missus Granger listen even if missus Granger doesn’t want to!’  
Before a startled Hermione could respond, the agitated house elf had grabbed her hand and disapparated them with an angry ‘crack!’. They immediately reappeared somewhere in the castle were there was more light than in the gloomy kitchens and Hermione was temporarily blinded. She had to quickly grab something to prevent her from toppling over when she was hit with a dizzy spell after the unexpected apparition. Before she could gather her bearings and stop the insistent elf, she heard another ‘crack’ and Demby was gone again. Gentle hands on her lower back steadied her and she was guided down into a sitting position. Blinking rapidly to dispel the light spots in her vision, the contours of the Great Hall became visible. A few seconds later she realised Demby had dropped her in the middle of a group of people, who were staring at her sudden appearance with a bit of shock. Across the table, she saw professor Flitwick had frozen with his spoon halfway up towards his mouth. Professors Sprout and Vector were on either side of him with their glasses raised mid-movement. _Oh great! Demby apparated me in the middle of a group of professors of all places! I’m going to have some words with that bloody elf!_ Smiling nervously, she managed a small:  
‘Uhm… Hi?’  
She heard an amused chuckle behind her and the hands that had been on her back earlier, now rested comfortingly on her shoulders.  
‘Not feeling very eloquent this afternoon, Miss Granger?’  
Hermione didn’t even have to look up to know who had spoken. She would have recognized Minerva McGonagall’s voice anywhere. She felt heat creep up her cheeks at the embarrassment of the situation and groaned silently. _Did Demby really have to apparate me right into the arms of my favourite professor? That elf is so dead_ , she sighed to herself. _Oh well, the damage is done now. I might as well try to enjoy it,_ she guessed.  
‘Hello professor. Thought I’d ehm… drop by?’  
A round of laughter was heard from around the table, but her eyes had found emerald green ones looking down at her. Small laugh lines had appeared around the outer corners of said eyes and she was temporarily distracted by them. _They suit her_ , Hermione mused to herself, until she realised she was staring and she hastily averted her gaze. She felt a small squeeze before the woman’s hands left her shoulders and the tall witch took up the seat beside her. The Transfiguration professor started assembling food while asking:  
‘I assume you’ll be joining us for lunch then?’  
Hermione was now distracted by the movement of the older woman’s nimble hands and she had to mentally shake herself. _Hello? Earth to Hermione Granger?_  
‘I wouldn’t want to impose actually, I can …’  
She was interrupted by professor Spout, who was giving her a warm smile:  
‘Nonsense dear! We’re glad to have you here with us. You should try the English pie, it’s quite good.’  
Hermione returned the smile hesitantly. She still felt like a deer caught in the headlights. She subtly let her gaze travel over the faces of the professors around her. None of them seemed to be bothered by the former student in their midst. _This is really turning out to be a peculiar day so far._ Her attention was once again drawn to the woman beside her but the older witch had started a conversation with professor Flitwick. _What about her has gotten me so distracted today? Maybe it’s because I now know there’s more to her than the strict professor I thought I knew before? Or was Demby simply right about my need to rest and eat? I do feel rather exhausted if I’m being honest to myself. That would explain why I’m suddenly focussing on random things like the professor’s eyes. Okay, fine. Thirty minutes. I’m going to allow myself thirty minutes and then I’m going back to the kitchens and heal those elves, whether they want to or not._ The young Gryffindor attempted to shut off her thoughts and got started on the food. She kept her eyes trained on her plate and chose to simply listen to the others talk about how their day had been thus far. Twenty minutes later, she had finished and was about to excuse herself when Madam Pomfrey halted her.  
‘Hang on Miss Granger. I’ll join you in the kitchens, if you give me a minute.’  
The confusion she felt at the mediwitch’s statement must’ve been written all over her face, because the Healer elaborated:  
‘You were brought to me unconsciously yesterday and I advised some bedrest. Yet Minerva tells me you’ve been up and about since dawn. When I asked what you’ve been doing, we had to summon a house elf, who told us you’ve singlehandedly restored the kitchens and healed about thirty of his kin. I was about to come down there and force you to take it easy, but Minerva convinced me to wait here so we could assess whether you had been straining yourself or not.’  
Hermione turned in her seat to look at the professor with mild curiosity. McGonagall kept eating, but gave her a small wink in reply, unnoticed by everyone but Hermione herself. _Right, I was supposed to report to her about the house elves, not jump straight into work. And she did mention that Madam Pomfrey had been worried when they found me._ It suddenly dawned on her that Demby had waited until she had caught her breath before he apparated her here. _Pomfrey would’ve been furious if she had seen my state before that._ She threw the transfiguration teacher a grateful smile, realising the professor must have instructed the elf to do so. A slight twitch of the lips was the only reaction she got, but it was enough. Turning back to Madam Pomfrey, she said:  
‘As you can see, I’m feeling quite well, but I must admit I could use the help of a professional Healer down there. Some of the elves had injuries that were beyond me, so I’ve put them under a stasis charm for the time being.’  
Madam Pomfrey looked alarmed at that announcement and quickly rose from her seat, leaving the muffin she was eating abandoned on her plate. Hermione followed suit, but leaned over towards professor McGonagall to whisper a quick ‘Thank you’. The older witch turned her head towards her former student with a smirk.  
‘You’re not off the hook yet, young lady, but we can talk about this later. Hurry along now, Poppy appears to be on a mission.’  
Looking around for the mediwitch, Hermione saw that she was indeed already halfway down the table and she scrambled to catch up with her. Upon reaching the kitchens, Poppy Pomfrey had taken one look at the state of affairs in the kitchen and hastily took over. Patients were rearranged by urgency and Hermione got a crash course in potion application for magical creatures so she could alternate between using her magic and using salves and elixirs. By dinnertime that evening, both witches were tired but satisfied by the amount of work they had managed to complete. Madam Pomfrey had forced her to sit down and share a quiet but peaceful dinner with the mediwitch but afterwards she had left with some final words of praise:  
‘I must return to the Hospital Wing to make my evening rounds there but I’m quite confident you can handle the remaining injuries here. I don’t know if you have any plans yet for after this whole ordeal, but if you’re interested in medical education, feel free drop by office anytime. I’d be honoured to have such a gifted student gain her mastery under my care.’  
And with that, the older witch was off, leaving a stunned Hermione staring at the Healer’s retreating figure. After a few moments she shook her head and turned towards the last line of patients, thinking: _It’s really been such a weird day…_

Dusk was upon them when Minerva was walking down the first floor corridor to her rooms. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named interim Minister until the time came for an election and he had wasted no time in contacting her. Setting up an impromptu meeting with the four Heads of House, she was pleased by the offered help from the Ministry in rebuilding the castle. Her mood had soured somewhat when he had asked her to take up the Headmistress position. Explaining to him that that decision was up to the board of directors, had done her no good. Her three colleagues had immediately expressed their support for her appointment and stressed that she knew it was just a technicality. That she was the one most suited for the position and that she had already proven her worth in the past. _Bollocks_ , she thought wryly, _they just don’t want to do the bloody job themselves! Although I have to admit that Filius would probably help me as I’ve once assisted Albus_.  
Lost in thought, she rounded the corner to her chambers and stilled her steps at the sight of Hermione Granger, slumped against the wall next to her door. She practically ran the last steps in her initial worry, but slowed down again once she saw the girl’s face. Eyes closed peacefully, chest rising and falling in line with a steady breathing. The girl looked exhausted but somehow less strained than she had the previous evening and Minerva couldn’t help but smile at that. She approached carefully and when the girl didn’t stir, she sighed and cast a featherweight charm on the sleeping witch. Bending down low, she scooped up the young woman like she had done the previous evening. A head with wild brown curls fell down on her shoulder, but other than that Hermione Granger didn’t move. Minerva suddenly felt very tired herself, so she turned to her door, gave the password and entered her chambers. Somehow it felt like a déjà-vu, only this time she knew her pupil was just sleeping. _Hopefully she won’t make a habit out of this_ , the professor thought. She then looked at the peaceful face of her charge and decided she didn’t actually mind. She navigated the darkened main room by memory and opened the door to the bedroom with the tip of her foot. Crossing over to the four-poster bed, she lowered the sleeping woman, careful not to wake her. For the second time she transformed clothes into nightwear and drew the cover up to rest beneath the girl’s chin. She felt a rush of affection for the young Gryffindor course through her and was a bit startled by the intensity of the emotion. With a last glance at the girl’s oblivious shape, Minerva walked back out of the bedroom and shut the door silently. A shaky breath escaped from between her lips and she let her forehead fall against the closed door. _Damn it, that girl is going to be the death of me if she keeps worrying me like this. Why didn’t she simply sent a Patronus to ask for the password instead of falling asleep on the doorstep?_ With another deep exhale, Minerva decided they were going to have another conversation come morning. She pushed off from the door and walked over to the couch near the fire. Lowering her tired body and leaning back, she felt the weight of the day wear her down and threw an arm over her closed eyes. A couple of muttered words later, a fire was spreading warmth through the room and a bottle of Firewhisky was pouring a generous amount of amber liquid in a sturdy glass. Reaching out blindly, she plucked the glass out of thin air and leaned up to take a much needed sip. She felt the fluid burn a path down her throat and warm her stomach from within. She made a mental list of all the things that needed to be done in the next days and prioritised them by necessity. Putting down the half-empty glass and leaning back again, she didn’t notice when stray thoughts made way for vague dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... comments anyone?


	3. Scars revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you all so much for all the wonderful comments and kudos, they've been really motivating me to write regularly!  
> The chapter's again a long one, but don't get used to it yet!  
> Now, without further ado, here's the weekly update. Hope you’ll enjoy 😊

Hermione woke well-rested at the crack of dawn. Feeling the soft blankets that covered her body, she stretched out luxuriously in her little cocoon of warmth. Sore muscles pulled pleasantly and a wide yawn escaped her before she opened her eyes. A frown appeared on her face when she recognized the bedroom walls. She didn’t remember getting into bed and her sleep-heavy mind promptly retraced her actions of the previous night.

Her nice bubble of warmth burst when she remembered walking up to McGonagall’s quarters and finding the door shut by password. Her frown deepened when she remembered her inability to produce a messenger-Patronus, which was unfortunate but likely due to the exhaustion she’d felt. It had left her with little options to contact the older witch, so she had just sank down against the wall and closed her tired eyes while she waited for the professor to arrive. She must have fallen asleep and the transfiguration teacher probably put her to bed since she recognized the bedroom from the night before.

The four-poster bed, the bare stone walls and the tartan quilt draped over a corner of the bedrest were exactly as she had left them. She smiled involuntarily at the lack of decorations. It was typically McGonagall’s style: minimal furniture with only a slight personal touch and yet it looked nice and the bed felt absolutely wonderful.

Hermione briefly wondered when she had started viewing Minerva McGonagall as a person with certain stylish preferences as opposed to the highly respected professor she had known before. _Probably a side effect from all that talking and laughing we did yesterday_ , she thought. A part of her had been surprised by the professor’s mischievous side and she knew it was kind of weird to be joking around after a brutal battle, but she had very much enjoyed the morning spent in her favourite teacher’s presence. _Maybe I can repay her by preparing breakfast today_.

Stifling another yawn, Hermione crawled out of bed and snickered as she looked down at her long nightgown. _Yep, definitely McGonagall’s doing_. A wide grin lifted the corners of her mouth as she grabbed her wand and transformed the old-fashioned piece of clothing into comfy shorts and a loose tank top. _Much better_ , she thought and slipped out of her room.

Stretching her arms high above her head, she made her way over to the dying embers of a fire. Bending low, she rekindled the flames and added some lumps of wood by hand. Leaning back in a squat, she closed her eyes and appreciated the feel of the fire’s glow. A noise coming from the couch behind her startled her and she toppled over, falling straight down on her bum. Using the momentum, she instinctively rolled over and leaped into a crouch, her wand trained on whoever was there.

\---

A very sleepy Minerva was woken by the sound of wood logs being dropped in the hearth. She blinked her eyes open and her gaze immediately landed on long bare legs. Those legs were just bending, giving her a front-row-view of cloth being stretched over a shapely backside. _Dear me, I certainly don’t remember putting her in those shorts!_ Ignoring the slight blush that was warming her cheeks, she averted her eyes and cleared her throat loudly.

She was already casting a non-verbal _Protego_ when she saw the spooked woman move with battle-honed reflexes. Minerva was still sprawled out in the sofa where she’d fallen asleep but her wand was pointing at the startled witch before her. Whatever curse the girl had been ready to cast, died on lips that transformed into a comical “O” upon seeing her.

Minerva felt an amused expression transform her features and managed a “Good morning Miss Granger”, while lowering her wand. With a quiet ‘oomphf’ the young witch let herself fall back into a sitting position and rubbed a hand over her face, clearly embarrassed. Biting down on her lower lip to keep from laughing at the girl’s lack of grace, Minerva summoned a knitted plaid which draped itself over the girl’s hunched shoulders. Struggling to get into an upright position, the older witch repressed a yawn while keeping an eye on her charge.

With a hand still covering her face, Hermione eventually uttered a response: “Mornin’ professor. Sorry to wake you.”

Minerva had to suppress the urge to laugh when she heard the quiet tone. “Don’t worry about it dear. In your defence, it was not likely to find an old witch snoring on a couch when she could have transformed it into a comfortable bed.”

A brown eye peeked from between parted fingers, which made Minerva grin again. Lowering her hand but still a bit uncomfortable, the younger witch replied: “You’re not old, professor…”

At this Minerva actually did bark out a laugh.

The girl raised an eyebrow at her and continued: “And you weren’t snoring either!”

Now Minerva definitely couldn’t stop laughing anymore and after a few seconds she heard a chuckle joining in on her joyous mood. It took them both a while longer to recompose themselves, but eventually they both managed to get up.

Minerva stretched her couch-stiffened muscles and a series of audible pops could be heard when her vertebrae realigned themselves. She noticed the girl wince at the sound and chuckled.  
“Still think I’m not old and worn, do you?”, she teased.

The younger woman gave her a defiant look and merely tilted her head left and right, resulting in two muted pops from the neck joints.

“Miss Granger, are you certain you don’t intend to challenge me?”, Minerva asked with mock seriousness.

The younger woman simply crossed her arms and smiled at her innocently. She couldn’t hide the mischievous twinkle that had appeared in her hazel eyes though.

_The boys must have rubbed off on her_ , the older witch grinned to herself. _Hermione was never the sort of troublemaker her two best friends were, but looking at her now?_ Minerva had to suppress a wicked smile _. If she ever combines her wits with this newly found attitude, she could be downright dangerous_. The professor found she didn’t mind the thought that much. _We’re Gryffindors after all. A bit of mischief is almost required to fit our House._  
“Well, since we’re both awake now, I suppose we should just get started with the day, yes?”

The younger witch gave a nod of consent and replied: “Sounds fine by me, but I’m cooking breakfast today.” And with that she strode off towards the kitchen.

Minerva stood there blinking after the girl’s retreating form, when her eyes fell on the crude carvings on her arm again. The younger witch had just turned her head to say something else, when she must’ve noticed that Minerva’s eyes had narrowed in reaction to the scar. Following her gaze, the young Gryffindor noticed what had triggered Minerva’s anger. The girl’s expression became closed off and she waved her wand over the lacerations, making them disappear with a non-verbal concealing charm.

They both stood there watching the seemingly clear skin for a second until the younger woman lifted her gaze again. Their eyes locked and Minerva could clearly see the guarded look in her former pupil’s brown orbs. The girl’s voice was sickeningly neutral when she asked: “I’m guessing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t heal it either?”

Minerva shook her head sadly and replied: “I’m afraid not. It appears to be cursed beyond her skill.” Her former student gave a nod in reply and Minerva could see the resigned look that overtook the girl’s features. “Miss Granger, how …?” Minerva saw the girl flinch and let her question trail off.

“Doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.” The young woman countered in that awfully controlled tone.

Minerva hesitated briefly, but then complied to the other’s wishes: “I can see that you don’t wish to speak about it and I’ll respect that. But if you ever need a listening ear, you know where to find me.”

Another nod from the young witch signalled the end of that particular conversation and both witches headed off to prepare for the day.

\---

By the time it was nearing seven a.m., both women were freshly showered and had just finished their breakfast. Hermione had appreciated the professor’s attempts to lighten the mood with questions about the house elves. She’d just given the older woman a brief summary of what they had done the previous day and assured her that the elves would be fine, when a silver stag came prancing through the outer wall. The professor’s stunned look upon seeing the Patronus’ antics, was what finally made the young witch laugh again.  
“Harry and I’ve been experimenting with our Patronus’ range of movements. He’s gotten quite good at it.”

The older witch was still watching the silver stag proudly trotting around them, when she replied: “I must admit that it’s rather… entertaining. Does he bring a message?”

Hermione reached out a hand as if to pet the silver stag and suddenly Harry Potter’s voice could be heard: “Good morning ‘Mione. We missed you at dinner yesterday. Our normal trio seems to be missing a crucial part without you here, so I just wanted to give you a head’s up that Ron and I will be joining you in the castle today. Ginny might come too. Word’s out that they’re rebuilding and we figured we could lend a hand as well. Meet us at the gates at nine? See you then. Bye.”  
The stag Patronus dissolved into puffs of smoke that cleared away swiftly and Hermione smiled at the message it had brought her.

Barely a day had passed since she last saw them, but apparently her friends already missed her. The thought left a warm feeling in her chest. She wondered briefly how many times Harry had misplaced his glasses by now and if Ron had lost his wand yet. It was usually her who retrieved the items without even having to look. A year of sharing a tent with both boys had given her a sixth sense of their littering patterns. The memories brought a smile to her lips and she already felt like nine o’clock couldn’t arrive fast enough. When she looked back up at her table companion, she saw the warmth shining through green eyes at the display.

“Feel free to use these rooms if you wish to spend some private time with your friends later today. I won’t be back until evening anyway. The password is ‘Unity’. Could you leave me a note if you decide accompany them to the Burrow afterwards?”

Hermione smiled at the older witch but shook her head. “I’m fairly certain I’ll be sleeping here tonight, but thank you for opening your private chambers to us. Harry might grow restless if too many people start pointing at him again, so this would be a great hiding place. I’ll make sure they don’t leave a mess.”

The professor chuckled at that, before responding: “As long as they leave the sofa in one peace so I can transform it back into a bed tonight, it’ll be fine. Sleeping on that couch won’t agree with me for a second night.”

Hermione furrowed her brow at those words. “What do you mean, ‘transform the sofa back into a bed’? Aren’t you sleeping in your room?”

The older witch’s expression turned into one saying ‘oops’ before she explained: “Actually **you** are sleeping in my room. And since the guest room was destroyed, I’m sleeping here for the time being.”

Hermione gasped at the admission. “Professor you shouldn’t! If I had known that you didn’t actually have the space, I would’ve gone to the Gryffindor dorms to sleep!”

Her former Head of House waved away her concerns. “Gryffindor tower has been destroyed in the battle, so you wouldn’t be able to stay there anyway. And besides, I’d still be sleeping in a comfortable bed if I just remember to transform it before falling asleep.”

Hermione was quick to offer a trade: “At least take back your own room and I can sleep here tonight.”

Her former teacher got a twinkle in her eyes when she countered: “Is that proposition born out a sense of chivalry on your part, Miss Granger? Whatever happened to ‘you’re not old professor’?”

Hermione could see the older witch had her cornered there, but her sense of courtesy wouldn’t allow this arrangement to continue. She could also see that the other woman wouldn’t budge. A lightbulb suddenly went on somewhere in her mind and she gave the older woman a seemingly accepting smile. “As you wish professor.”

Said professor was eyeing her sceptically, suspicious over having won the argument so easily. Fortunately for Hermione the older witch needed to leave if she wanted to be in the Great Hall by seven. With a flick of her wand, the dishes were cleared, the table tidied and the transfiguration teacher was standing by the door when she hesitantly asked: “I trust you’ll be fine by yourself here?”

Hermione nodded and gave the other woman a reassuring smile.

“And I will see you later today?’

Hermione felt her smile transform into a grin again but attempted to keep her face as neutral as possible when she answered: “Yes, I assume you’ll see us at dinner and tonight I’ll be right here as I said earlier.”

She could clearly see the professor’s suspicion and confusion, but the older woman just shook her head and yielded under the time pressure.

The door had barely closed, when Hermione made her way into the kitchen and towards the door she’d assumed lead to the professor’s bedroom. She almost slammed into the damned thing when it wouldn’t open at her touch. A quick _Alohomora_ later, she was looking down a gaping crater and she was suddenly very happy for the professor’s precaution with locking the door.

_Ah yes, I see the problem now_ , she thought to herself when she inspected the damage. Realising a simple _Reparo_ wouldn’t suffice here, she leaned against the doorframe and mulled over her plan to restore the guestroom. Judging by the part of the bathroom she could see across the hole, the infrastructure was fairly simple. _Alright, first I need to know where the support beams need to be. For that I need to see where they once were… Which would probably be easier from the bottom._

She knew it was an unnecessary risk, but she felt her daredevil part rear it’s head and decided to just go with it. After casting a cushioning charm on the rubble below, she grabbed her wand tightly and stepped into thin air. _Arresto Momentum_ had her hovering just above the borders of her first charm and seconds later she stood looking up at the still open door with a grin.

The adrenaline rush gave her mind a jumpstart and half an hour later she had a solid plan on how to tackle the reconstruction works. Another hour and she’d managed to sort the rubble into organised piles and had levitated the stones from the outer wall out onto the grounds. She knew it was almost time to meet her friends and with a pleased look at the work she’d done so far, she took off to meet them.

\---

“Minerva? Are you feeling alright?”

Those were the words, spoken by Poppy Pomfrey, that pulled her wandering mind back to the task at hand. “Hmm? Oh yes, my apologies Poppy. I must’ve drifted off for a bit there. You were saying?”  
The mediwitch gave her a mildly concerned look, but continued her report on the situation in the Hospital Wing. She heard Filius Flitwick and Pomona Sprout ask some questions and knew they would be dealing with whatever it was that the Healer needed.

She kept one ear on the conversation, but her thoughts soon returned to a certain brunette. _That girl is up to something, I can feel it._ Minerva knew the girl wouldn’t abide by her wishes to keep their sleeping arrangement as it was. But there really wasn’t much to be done about it. She felt like she had missed something in her earlier conversation with the younger witch. Something crucial. But, for Merlin’s sake, she couldn’t figure out what is was and it kept her mind going in circles. She was actually considering going back up to her rooms to make sure the girl wasn’t up to something foolish. She sighed internally. That would have to wait. There were things to be done here. And the girl would be sufficiently distracted once her friends arrived anyway.

With another silent sigh, she tuned back into the conversation and managed to pick up on the summary Pomona was giving: Each patient had his or her own bed now, all were stable, Pomona was going to provide Horace with ingredients for healing potions to restock the supply and Poppy was certain that by this time next week, most of her patients could be discharged from her care.

All in all, this was some of the better news she had gotten this morning and she made sure to convey her compliments, much to the mediwitch’s surprised delight. _I really need to start handing out compliments more often_ , she chastised herself. They wrapped up their little gathering and Filius convinced her to join him on a brief walk outside to survey some of the works that had started.

There were small groups of volunteers that were running all over the place. Most were levitating broken stones into piles off to the side and vanishing debris as they went. She saw Hagrid instructing his Giant half-brother Grawp on how to pick up large pillars without crushing them over nervous bystanders. Judging by the dust that liberally covered the groundskeeper’s wolfskin jacket, he wasn’t being entirely successful. But a relatively small and friendly Giant in their midst would at least speed up the heavier work. If he hadn’t stepped on anyone by the time the school reopened, she was positive she could convince Kingsley to let him stay on the grounds. The paperwork involved for sanctioning a residence permit for a Giant would be a nightmare, but both Hagrid and his brother deserved it.

Apparently she’d stopped walking while mulling things over and she heard Filius clear his throat to get her attention again. She blinked a few times and turned to look at him sheepishly. He simply returned a lenient smile and they started walking again.

They talked to some of the group’s supervisors about any difficulties they encountered and Minerva tried to estimate the materials they were going to have to bring in for the next phases. Afterwards both professors retreated to the Headmaster’s office to get started on the mountains of paperwork that needed to be filed.

They were kept busy with damage reports, requests for donations and funding and sorting through the rather intimidating pile of correspondence they had received the previous days. Minerva was grateful to note that, despite his less favourable characteristics, Severus Snape had done an admirable job on running the school. They had some monetary lenience to cover for at least the first costs. Her thoughts on the former Headmaster turned to memories of his portrait’s revelations after the battle and eventually to the young female Gryffindor who was somewhere on the grounds, doing who knows what. Realising that thoughts of the younger witch would keep distracting her, she decided to alleviate at least some of her troubles.

Excusing herself for a moment, Minerva went to the adjacent study for some privacy and summoned Demby. She explained her worries over Miss Granger’s wellbeing and asked him to keep an eye on the girl for her. The little elf seemed almost excited to be given a task by the new Headmistress, so she made sure he understood she didn’t expect him to actually tail the lass. Just check to see what she was up to a few times a day. With a deep bow and a loud ‘crack!’, Demby disappeared and Minerva went back to Filius and their stack of papers, less worried now about the girl and her ability to get herself into trouble.

\---

When Hermione approached the iron gates that separated the Hogwarts grounds from the neighbouring village of Hogsmeade, she noticed a small crowd had gathered. She could spot the two familiar redheads in the middle of the group easily, but she only saw a glimpse of Harry’s unruly hair when the mass of people parted slightly. White flashes were going off and it dawned on her that they were reporters, all swarming around The Boy Who Lived Again.

_Oh great_ , she muttered sarcastically to herself and picked up her pace to try and rescue her friends from being overwhelmed. Her mind flashed back to their previous, unpleasant encounters with Rita Skeeter and how, despite her power to blackmail the beetle animagus, the reporter had made their lives miserable again when Voldemort’s forces had taken control. _I’m going to have to come up with a different way to effectively deal with that vile woman and her overeager colleagues_.

When she drew closer, she noticed one reporter was standing apart from the crowd, keeping a respectful distance. The middle-aged man wore a resigned look and simply observed her friends, not hurling questions at them like the other reporters did. It gave Hermione an idea on how to handle things this time around as she hurried towards Harry, Ron and Ginny.

Her three friends looked as uncomfortable as she had anticipated and wore facial expression close to alarm. _Alright, let’s give this a go_ , she thought and took a deep breath to calm herself. The one reporter she had noticed earlier had already seen her approach but, apart from a few scribbled notes, made no advance to impede her movements.

She raised her wand against her throat, cast _Sonorus_ and addressed the crowd, keeping her voice as neutral as possible: “Calm yourselves please, this is getting no one anywhere.”

Heads were turned in her direction and she became temporarily blinded by camera flashes, but stood her ground and continued: “You do realise you’re harassing three war veterans, right? I wonder what former veterans like Alastor Moody would’ve done if they suddenly got swamped by a group of people.”

A few reporters looked at her sheepishly but at least they made a small effort to give the three Gyffindors some space. Hermione could see the relief on Harry’s face, but she was instantly distracted by a familiar voice calling out to her:  
“Miss Granger, dear! How lovely for you to join this impromptu press conference! Tell me, is it true that you spent the past year in a small tent with these two boys?”

_Two seconds and Skeeter is already insinuating things_ , Hermione sighed to herself. “Hello Rita. I could say it’s a pleasure to see you again, but I make a point of not telling lies to the public. Unlike others present here today.”

The jab was picked up by the others and she saw a lot of people snicker. _Careful now_ , she told herself, _don’t start a pissing contest with Skeeter. You know it’ll blow up in your face one way or another_. Rita Skeeter’s face had indeed soured somewhat and the woman’s eyes flashed dangerously behind the trademark glasses. She could see the woman was about to retort, but another reporter beat her to it:  
“Miss Granger, the public is desperate for answers and wants to know what you three have been up to. It’s simply our job to provide it to them.”  
The man seemed to have picked up on her displeasure over the treatment of her friends and tried a more respectful approach.

_Good. Politeness I can work with._ She made a point of turning towards the reporter to indicate he had her attention before she responded: “I realise that sir and, as a sign of goodwill, I will indulge this group by answering one question.”

There were eager looks all around and they all started shouting questions at her. Skeeter’s shrill voice could be heard, but the words thankfully got drowned in the racket. She winced at the cacophony of sound and held up a hand to request silence again.  
“However, I simply can’t agree with the methods you’ve displayed so far, so therefore I’ll grant that question to the man in the back there. He’s the only one who hasn’t molested my friends, you see.”

_The moment of truth_ , she thought when she looked over at the surprised reporter. There was some mild outrage at her statement, but the man she had indicated threw a quick look at the crowd and spoke up: “Miss Granger, I believe the most pressing question we have is whether You Know Who is really gone and if he’ll remain dead this time around.”

Hermione noted the hidden double question but since it was a reasonable one she decided to answer it anyway: “I believe the Ministry will be releasing a statement on that subject soon, but I can say that I’ve personally seen Harry fight Voldemort.” There were winces and startled gasps at the name, but she ignored them and carried on: “‘He was hit by his own killing curse, which rebounded on him in the fight. I don’t think we need a reminder of the effectiveness of that monster’s spellwork.”

A more demure silence had fallen at her statement and from the corner of her eye, she could see Ginny carefully extracting the boys from the crowd that was now focussed on her. The man that had posed the question was still looking at her expectantly and she smiled when realisation dawned on her.

_He knows what I’m doing here and is deciding to just go along with it, as long as his questions gets answered. Huh, smart move…_ She continued: “During the course of many years, Harry and the late professor Dumbledore had gathered extensive information on Voldemort’s life and discovered how he was able to rise again three years ago.” She took another deep breath and weighed her next words: ‘Ever since that moment, we’ve spent our time attempting to thwart Voldemort’s plans and destroying al things that would enable a second resurrection. To the furthest of our knowledge, we have succeeded in that endeavour. He’s gone people. Voldemort is finally gone and we can start rebuilding our lives again.”

The reporter she had singled out gave her a grateful nod and stepped back. Others started firing questions at her again, but Ginny and the boys had finally managed to escape the throng of people and huddled behind her instinctively.

She mostly heard the gathered reporters call for a statement from Harry himself and she knew she would have to force her point across now. “Now, I can’t speak for Harry, but I’m quite certain that if you follow your colleague’s example on how to politely approach us, he’ll be more accessible for questions in the future. Thank you all and have a nice day.” With those final words, she cast _Quietus_ and gave them all a pointed look. Quite a few seemed to have gotten her message and put away their notebooks.

With another nod at them, she turned around and started walking. Gesturing to her friends to follow her, they made their way over towards the castle in silence. When the shouting from the remaining reporters died down and they reached a spot with some relative privacy, her three friends suddenly pounced on her with excited squeals. The unexpected momentum made them all topple over in a mess of flailing limbs, but Hermione was already laughing over their exclaims of “Blimey ‘Mione!” and “You’re the best!” and “Thank you so, so much!”

Their joined laughter could be heard through the open window of the Headmistress’ study. The faces of the two professors present there could be seen smiling at them from behind the windows if the four Gryffindors had bothered to look up.

\---

Minerva was smiling fondly at the merry display of her former students. When she turned her head to look at Filius Flitwick, she saw a similar expression of gentle warmth.

After observing them for a while longer, Filius spoke up: “We owe a lot to those youngsters. I’m glad to see they’ve found joy in each other after the hardships they’ve endured.”

Minerva turned away from the window and took her seat in the Headmaster’s chair before she answered: “Yes, I’m glad to see them frolicking about. I do hope they get the chance to reclaim what’s left of their childhood.”

The small wizard followed her example and took up a seat on the other side of the massive desk. “If the Ministry leaves them alone, Ronald might. Even Harry might get a chance if Ginny Weasley has anything to say about it.”

Minerva raised an eyebrow at her old friend. “You think Miss Granger is too damaged to enjoy some youthful escapades?”

He shook his head. “No, not at all. I’m actually quite impressed with how she seems to be dealing. But you saw how she handled those vultures at gates, Minerva. That one’s all grown up. She was never a typical teenager like the others, but she’s grown into a powerful young woman now. I’m sure Kingsley’s eager to get her on board of the Ministry but if she ever decides to run for Minister herself, she could give him a run for his Galleons!”

They both chuckled at his declaration, knowing there was at least some truth to it. “I don’t know. I was hoping young Mr Weasley might convince her to enjoy some mindless fun for a bit.”

Flitwick laughed at her. “Ha! You believe Ronald Weasley can convince Hermione Granger to take it easy for a change? You were their Head of House Minerva, you of all people should know better.”

_Well I see his point,_ she admitted to herself grumpily. She just hoped the young witch would find some happiness that wasn’t derived from helping others rebuild a world that should’ve treated her better in the first place. “Maybe if they got involved, he would be able to persuade her”, she mused aloud.

That gained her another chuckle from Filius, who replied: “Those two? I don’t see how that could ever work.”

Minerva crossed her arms and turned towards the window again with a thoughtful look. “They’ve fancied each other for years, have they not? Every fool could see it.” A pause. “Except Mr Weasley of course.”

They both smiled knowingly at each other until the charms master countered: “That might’ve been true before they left, but despite our wishing that it hadn’t, the war has changed them. I’m telling you, that girl has outgrown her teenage years.”

Minerva eyed him thoughtfully, but had to admit he was probably right. There wasn’t much more to be said about that, so they picked up the paperwork they were supposed to be sorting through and a comfortable silence settled over them once more.

\---

“You want us to do what?”, Ron exclaimed upon seeing the giant hole in the floor of their professor’s guestroom.

Hermione eagerly explained why she really wanted them to help her with the reconstruction: “She been transforming the sofa into a bed for herself, so I could sleep in her bedroom and have some privacy. While I appreciated the gesture, I want her to be able to sleep in her own bed again.”

Ron was looking at her with a confused expression plastered on his face when he questioned her reasoning again: “But why don’t you just sleep somewhere else then? There’s room for you with Ginny back at the Burrow.”

_I probably should have seen that one coming_ , she reflected to herself. She sighed and tried to explain: “As I’ve said after the battle, I need some time to myself and the professor has been really kind to me. She’s been helping me talk through stuff when I needed it and let me be in peace when I asked. I feel safe here. I know the kindness and love I would get from staying with your family would be good for me too Ron, but there’s just too many people around there to find the peace and quiet I want.” She saw his face fall at her admission, so she kindly added: “I would like to visit soon though.”

He reluctantly smiled at her but after a moment he simply shrugged and said: “Alright. I still don’t get it, but if this is what you want, then sure. We’ll help.”

Harry and Ginny had been quiet throughout the exchange but now they too expressed their consent.  
  


Five minutes later Harry and Ron were waving their wands in unison, levitating newly-mended rafters into place and holding them still so Hermione and Ginny could attach them. It took them most of the day, but an hour before dinnertime the floor and inner walls were restored and they stood admiring their work with satisfied smiles. Ginny was the first to comment: “Phew! Remind me not to try and build my own house in the future, would you?”

Ron sank down to sit on the newly replaced floorboards and addressed his sister: “Why would you need to build a house? Harry’s got Grimmauld Place, doesn’t he?” Ginny blushed at his off-handed comment but looked over at Harry, who simply smiled at her and nodded. “Ron’s right you know. You could come and stay at Grimmauld Place with me when the time’s right.” Ginny threw him a radiant smile for his invitation and the two shared a long look.

Hermione smiled at the loving display between her two friends. _I’m happy for you Harry. I’m so very glad to see you two have found each other again. You really make a great couple._ She turned contemplative eyes on Ron, who was oblivious as always. _Could we ever be like that? Maybe it’s time to find out?_

With a sigh she turned towards the kitchen and got some pumpkin juice from which they all took grateful gulps. With a last pensive look at Ron, she turned towards Harry and Ginny. “Why don’t you guys take a seat by the fireplace and spent some time together? There’s still an hour left until dinner and all that’s left for me to do is the furniture.” Excited glances were thrown between the two lovebirds but it was Ron again who interrupted. “What do you mean ‘all that’s left to do is the furniture’? Haven’t you noticed the big hole that’s still left in the outer wall?”, he joked.

Hermione was quick to salvage her set-up: “Well if you don’t believe me, you’ll just have to stay here with me and see for yourself, won’t you?” Harry and Ginny shot her a grateful look and quickly relocated towards the privacy of the living room.

In the meantime it had dawned on Ron that he and Hermione were the only ones left in the room and he got up with an overly confident grin. “You could’ve just said so if you wanted to be alone with me, you know.”

Hermione would’ve expected she’d blush at a comment like that, but somehow she didn’t. _Strange_ , she mused to herself but she didn’t have time to reply when suddenly Ron was right in front of her and leaning in for a kiss. _It was… Sloppy? Pleasant? Something in between?_ She returned the kiss in the hopes of experiencing that thrill of falling in love, but somehow it only felt awkward. Their kiss at the battle had been a spur-of-the-moment thing and she hadn’t had time to think about it much with spells flying all around them at the time.

Ron must’ve sensed her discomfort because he pulled back and gave her a hesitant smile. She returned the smile but sighed sadly. _Sorry Ron, but there are really no butterflies on my end at all. I don’t think we should do this._ When she studied him she noticed that he didn’t seem overly excited either. _If I’m reading him right, this could go a lot easier than I anticipated._

She entangled their fingers and tugged on his hand, leading them to sit on the bare floor again, with their backs leaning against the wall. They were still holding hands, when she spoke up: “Does this feel as weird to you as it does to me?”, she asked him, not meeting his gaze.

She felt his hand twitch in hers and his voice was quivering when he had answered: “Maybe it’s something we just have to get used to?”

She had turned her upper body towards him and searched his face, finding a least some of the doubt she felt so strongly herself. Carefully she tried to explain herself without hurting his feelings: “Ron, I … I assure you that you’re an adequate kisser, but can you honestly tell me that you felt any real sparks when we kissed?”

His ears had turned red at her question and he avoided her gaze by looking everywhere but at her. She reached over to hold his hand in both of hers, urging him to calm down and consider her words. After a while he let his head fall on his chest, before grumbling: “Not sparks, but… Come on ‘Mione, we’ve been dancing around each other for a while now. Shouldn’t we give this a chance?”

She merely raised an eyebrow at him, before pressing further. “Ron, please listen to yourself…” He looked over at her with a pleading look. She changed tactics at that point, blushing furiously but unable to let go of her suspicions, she blurted: “Can you imagine us going any further than a kiss?!”

The look of intense unease that crossed his face told her all she needed to know and inwardly she was relieved. Realising his mistake, Ron tried to cover up his initial reaction but the point was made.

“Ron, it’s ok. Really, it is.’” The baffled look on his face told her that he had not expected that reaction, so she continued to explain: “Yes, I admit that at a certain point in the past I had hoped for us to become romantically involved, but after everything that’s happened, those feelings have changed. Yes, I love you, but like I love Harry, like I imagine I would love a sibling. You two are my best friends. You’re all I have left in this world and I refuse to endanger that friendship over an obviously misplaced crush!”

Tears had gathered in the corner of her eyes after choking out those words and Ron instinctively placed his remaining hand over hers. Reading the emotions that flashed silently in his eyes, she realised he was carefully considering her words. His expressions morphed from initial pain and anger to desperation to eventually settle on something resembling reluctant … acceptance? He huffed defeatedly and leaned his shoulder against hers. After a few moments of silence, Ron sighed deeply and spoke up: “I should’ve confessed my feelings for you sooner. Now I’ve really missed my chance with you, huh?”

Hermione let her head lean sideways against his shoulder before she answered sadly: “The blame should be on us both of us, Ron. I could’ve spoken up sooner too.” Her voice was laced with uncertainty when she added: “Will we still be friends?”

She could feel Ron turning his head towards her, but she was too scared to meet his eyes. “I hope so. You still mean a lot to me Hermione. Don’t doubt that”, he replied in a fairly steady voice.

She tilted her head to look at him now and found resignation mixed with hope on his expression. “Good. Because you still mean a lot to me too.”

They shared a long, sad look before Hermione dropped her head back on his shoulder. Ron shifted his torso so he could reach around her shoulders and pull her close for a sideways hug. Neither of them cried, but they came close.

  
After a few more minutes Hermione disentangled herself and stood up, Ron following suit. They stood there looking at each other awkwardly, until Ron made a vague gesture towards the room and broke the tension: “Didn’t you say you were gonna fix this place up a bit more?”

She blinked at the change of topic, but sighed and decided that any way forward was good enough for now. “Yeah, I did. Hold on.” And with that she focussed on the last things she had planned for her temporary room. She saw Ron follow her wand movements when she conjured the fourposter bed she had already assembled downstairs. She levitated it to stand near the still open outer wall and when she looked at him again, she let out a small laugh upon seeing his scepticism. “Patience. I’m not done yet.”

He gave her a small but sincere smile in return and indicated that she could continue. The corners of his mouth had twitched up into an amused grin though and he leaned back against the wall, simply watching. She felt the edges of her own lips quirk up in response to his silent amusement and turned towards the open wall.

She levitated a few more stones up to fit themselves around the edges until she had reduced the hole to a more manageable size. It was still quite large though and gave them a wide view of the surrounding area and the Scottish mountains in the distance. _Now for the aesthetics_ , she thought and she rolled up her sleeves. The first spells created a barrier that kept the elements out without obstructing the view, like a window would but without the glass. The next spells were purely for enjoyment purposes as she charmed a small waterfall to run along the sides of the opening. The enchanted water appeared and disappeared through the junctures between the stones and as she heard the water trickle, she felt the sound calming her. Feeling a bit better already, she added a few mosses and hanging plants with small colourful flowers to decorate her little cave-wall and she was delighted with the effect they created together.

She turned around with a proud smile and saw Ron return it in full this time, his eyes shining with amazement at her creation. “You really do have a knack for these sort of things, you know.”

Is wasn’t spoken in a wistful tone and Hermione felt hopeful that the two of them could indeed work this out. “Thank you Ron”, she answered him.

With another small smile he walked over to her and gathered her in his arms for a fortifying hug. Which she returned gladly. It wasn’t awkward or weird to hug their friend. This was something they knew how to do. They would be fine.

“This is gonna be a nice place for you to stay for a while, but ‘Mione…”

He hesitated and Hermione drew back a little from the hug to look up at him. “What is it Ron? If you have questions, just ask.”

Her words weren’t spoken in a negative way, which probably tempered her friend’s reluctance because he continued: “I would’ve thought you would be looking for your parents by now. And that you would be staying with them after they’ve returned home. But looking at this place, makes me wonder if you’re not planning to stay here for a good while longer?”

She furrowed her brow at the mention of her parents. She had thought about them of course. A lot. But it wasn’t the right time to go looking for them yet. There was still too much uncertainty for them to return. She could understand Ron’s confusion over it though, so she explained: “There are still Death Eaters at large Ron. The ones that fled after we won the battle. The Ministry will hopefully be able to round them up soon though. And then, after everything has settled down and the world feels a bit safer… Then I’ll go look for Monica and Wendell Wilkins.”

Her voice had faded into a whisper, but it seemed Ron had heard her anyway for he gave her a nod. They smiled at each other in understanding and they’d only just loosened their hold of each other’s arms when a squeal made them jump.

Harry and Ginny had returned and the latter was excitedly praising Hermione’s little comfy cave. After Harry had complimented her on her creation as well, they decided to go down to the Great Hall for dinner since it was almost six by then.

\----

Minerva and Filius had managed to sort through their paperwork for the day and were on their way to the Great Hall for dinner as well. A group under the guidance of professor Vector had cleared most of the Hall’s detritus today and others had restored the Ravenclaw House table. Three of the four long tables could now be used again and judging by the numerous occupants, it had been a smart decision on professor Vector’s part. Minerva was glad to note that the atmosphere in the large room was starting to take on a more positive vibe with each passing day.

She followed Filius to the Hufflepuff table, where their colleagues had gathered and she was pleased to see four familiar Gryffindors amongst them. Miss Granger had noticed their approach and suddenly brown eyes found her own and Minerva felt her breath catch at the joy she saw there. They exchanged soft smiles and a nod in greeting. Since the seat next to the girl was still empty, Minerva made her way over there and sat down with a “Good evening” for the entire group.

Both Weasleys seemed unsure about their Head of House joining them, but Mr Potter didn’t seem bothered by it and even surprised her by initiating some small talk: “Evenin’ professor. I’m glad to see you before we go home again. I wanted to thank you for letting us use your living quarters today. It was a lot easier to catch up with Hermione without all the staring from the people around.”

Minerva noticed Miss Granger exchange a supposedly covert grin with Ginny Weasley at his words and she was instantly curious about what they had been up to this afternoon. She made a mental note to ask Demby later on and returned her attention to The Boy Who Lived Again to reply: “It was my pleasure Mr Potter. Feel free to do so again in the future should the need arise.”

With that said, she was quickly pulled into a conversation on her other side by Pomona and Horace about some trouble with potion ingredients and she left the four younger ones to enjoy their meals.  
A good while later they were all sated and the leftovers dishes had been cleared and replaced by after-dinner tea trays and desert. Laughter had started flowing more freely around the room as volunteers and staff alike had started to relax after a hard day’s work.

She’d heard the occasional giggles from their younger table companions and when she looked over, she saw a playful smirk directed at her by Miss Granger. She raised an eyebrow at the younger woman but decided not to ask and leaned back contently to take a sip of her tea. Only when she tilted the cup there was no warm liquid, but something cold meeting her lips. Both of her eyebrows went up at the discovery and she held the tea at a distance to look at it more closely. It was frozen. She turned the cup upside down over the little plate and a small, rounded block of frozen tea fell out. When she turned accusing eyes on the brunette next to her, she found the girl shaking with silent laughter.

_Well at least she didn’t do it in front of the Minster_ , Minerva thought to herself. _But how shall I react? Call her out on it somehow? Hmm… No_. She thought of a better response. She turned to give the young troublemaker a wicked grin and then turned into her cat animagus. As a tabby cat, she jumped up on the table and started licking her icy treat with vigour as any real cat would do. She heard the conversation around her falter at her uncharacteristic display. Turning her feline body towards the girl, she gave an appreciative mewl, before transforming back into her human form.

The eyes of those nearby were still trained on her and most had a flabbergasted look plastered on their faces. With an innocent expression, she took her napkin and dabbed at the corners of her mouth before commenting: “My apologies. Someone decided to introduce a new flavour of ice cream to the menu and I just couldn’t resist a little tasting.”

Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Weasley, Pomona, Horace, Filius and quite a few others were looking at her as if she’d grown a second head. None of them had any idea how to respond. Until Miss Granger had reached her breaking point and burst into loud laughter.

She gave the girl a good natured grin and chuckled along. She had to admit it was a nicely played prank. Her colleagues had caught on by now and laughed along. Even the other three young Gryffindors seemed to get over their initial astonishment and joined in on the merriment. It was a rather nice ending of the afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I believe the pace on this one’s a bit slow and that's mostly intentional. I promise to end the next chapter on a cliffhanger to compensate😉  
> As some of you know, it’s my first fic and I’m still experimenting with the layout and such. To me it feels like it’s getting close to the point of how I want it, but what do you guys think? Any suggestions?


	4. The nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fair warning on this one: depictions of violence and trauma ahead.
> 
> Oh and if you don't like suspension, you might want to wait a little longer before reading this chapter.

It was nearly eight in the evening when they reached the gates leading up to Hogsmeade. Sunset would be upon them soon and the low light painted the quiet village in warm colours. The four Gryffindors decided to take a stroll along the path to enjoy their last moments together before three of them would return to the Burrow.

Ron was still trying to wrap his head around what had happened during dinner: “I still don’t know how you dared to pull a joke like that on McGonagall of all people! And she acts like it’s perfectly normal and turns into bloody cat and start licking her tea! I mean, come on! Nobody who wasn’t there to see it with their own eyes, would believe me if told them!”

The others all laughed at his incredulous declaration. Harry was the first to recover and addressed Hermione: “You knew she would find it amusing, didn’t you?”

A knowing smile could be seen on her face when she replied: “I had a hunch yes. She played a similar joke on me the other day. Overloaded my tea with so much sugar I nearly spit it out.”

The three others stared at her, mouths dropping open. Ginny was the first to respond to this new revelation: “Okay, so professor McGonagall apparently has a naughty side. Cool. I’m actually quite relieved to hear it.” When Hermione gave the other girl a questioning glance, the redhead explained: “I’d somehow imagined that conversations between you two would be about books and school stuff, but if she turns you into a tea-spewing dragon, I get why you’d want to stay with her. Ron is right though: There’s no way mum ‘n dad will believe us.”

Hermione was about to react to the dragon comparison when a deep, male voice interrupted them.

“What won’t they believe? You lot haven’t been up to anything dangerous, have you?”

Four wands were suddenly out and trained on the unexpected newcomer.

It turned out to be Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was walking up to them and they breathed a sigh of relief. “Good reflexes. You’ll need those if you accept the offer I was about to extend.’”

Harry and Hermione managed a polite greeting, but Ginny eyed him wearily and asked: “What kind of offer would that be Minister?”

Kingsley looked at her with an apologetic smile. “I was actually only referring to Harry, Ron and Hermione. You’re still underage Ginny, otherwise I would’ve included you.” Ginny simply rolled her eyes at him and crossed her arms defiantly.

The three others stood there watching the Minister curiously, so the man started to explain himself: “As you might know, we’ve been trying to round up the remaining Death Eaters. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy are providing us with names and evidence of violations, so we actually have some very solid cases this time around.”  
They shared some looks of surprise at how their least favourite classmate seemed to be turning over a new leaf, but Kingsley wasn’t done talking yet: “Locking them up won’t be a problem. The real issue is finding and capturing them. The Auror force is decimated. There are only a few of us left. Not nearly enough to capture the rogue bands of snatchers and go looking for Voldemort’s inner circle members at the same time.”  
He turned his gaze mostly on Harry and continued: “Look, you three have done more than enough already, so feel free to decline, no hard feelings whatsoever, alright? But I know Harry at least had wanted to become an Auror before the war started so I’ve come to offer all three of you an Auror position. I’ll have you properly trained before sending you out into the field, but frankly you three have more experience than some of the veterans. We could use your help. If you’re up for it, that is.”

Ron was already nodding enthusiastically and Harry’s eyes shone brightly at the prospect of his dream career coming within reach. Hermione initially felt a bit worried about their eagerness, but then she remembered her own words from earlier that day: she wouldn’t even consider going out to find her parents when there were still Death Eaters at large. If she were to help in rounding them up, she would feel more assured about when the time was right to pick up her old life again. She wasn’t keen on experiencing more violence, but she felt her reluctance make way for grim determination.

_We’ve taken on Voldemort himself and survived. How hard can it be to capture his followers in comparison?_ She only had any real fear for Bellatrix, but she knew Voldemort’s second in command at least was very much dead. After all they’d been through, the three of them actually did have some qualified experience and they worked well together. They could do this.

She looked up to see Kingsley watching her with a patient, open expression. There was no expectation there. He would accept whatever they decided. And that was what eventually helped her decide. They weren’t being forced into this. They had a choice this time. And it felt like the right one to take his offer and help clean up the last persons who believed in the blood supremacy Voldemort had preached. They would see this through to the end.

She exchanged a look with the two boys and they saw she had reached a decision. They knew each other too well by now. They knew what her decision would be and they gave her a nod to relay their silent agreement. She turned to the new Minister and spoke only four words: “When do we begin?”

Initially he was a bit startled by her response but after verifying they all knew what they were getting themselves into, he told them to come by the Ministry in three days’ time and they would start on their training. With a few last words of thanks the Minister took his leave.

Not much words were exchanged between them either before Harry, Ginny and Ron said their goodbyes. Hermione turned around and walked the path back up to the castle, lost in thought.

\---

On her way out of the Great Hall after dinner, Minerva decided to make a detour to the kitchens to check up on the house elves. She’d gotten reports from both Hermione and the school nurse that they were doing fine, but she wanted to thank the little creatures for all their hard work. Entering through the archway behind the painting of the fruit bowl, she was met with the busy comings and goings of their little helpers.

When she cleared her throat, all movement slowed down to a stop and she clasped her hands in front of her before addressing them: “I just wanted to compliment you all on yet another extraordinary meal. It is because of your admirable care that we have a foundation to build upon and start repairing this castle that is home to us all. I really just wanted to thank you all for what you’ve done for us. I’ve asked some witches and wizards to come down here later this week and help you rebuild the kitchen. I invite you all to voice any improvements you can think of and instruct those people to rebuild your workspace with the same care you’ve displayed for us. Should any problems occur, you must know each and every one of you is welcome to come to me and I’ll do all in my power to aid you.”

The elves were rendered speechless and looked as though they didn’t really know what to make of her. Apparently being addressed and praised by the Headmistress was something foreign to them, so Minerva decided to tone it down a notch and concluded her impromptu speech: “So once again thank you and I bid you all a very good night.”

Most of the elves gave her a deep bow before returning to their respective tasks, but she saw one elf heading towards her and she smiled when he gave his customary bow. “Good evening Demby. I hope I didn’t startle you all too much.”

“Elves are not used to being spoken to by the Headmistress of the castle. But elves will learn in time that Mistress Minerva is not like other Headmasters and that she cares for us deeply. Elves were very happy when Mistress Minerva sent down Missus Hermione and Mistress Poppy to heals us.”

Minerva made a mental note to come down here more often to talk to the elves and help them get used to her. The mention of Hermione’s name reminded her of what she had previously requested of Demby and she asked him if he’d seen her do anything out of the ordinary.

After a brief hesitation, Demby started telling her about the conversation the girl had had with Ronald Weasley about finding her parents. Only Minerva knew quite certain that their names hadn’t been Monica and Wendell Wilkins. She’d been the one to hand out the girl’s acceptance letter from Hogwarts and explain things to her parents all those years ago.

Maybe the girl had urged them to change their names? It would’ve been a smart precaution, but something didn’t add up… Why would she have to go looking for them? Didn’t she keep in touch? Although that would’ve been difficult to do while keeping a low profile. _Maybe I could help find them? She would’ve been smart enough to have them hide in the Muggle world, since most wizards and witches haven’t got a clue about how to track them there._ Being a half-blood witch however meant that Minerva had a better understanding of the non-magical community and she also still had some contacts in the Muggle world. She could find the girl’s parents now that the war was over.

When she realised she had been standing there in the middle of the kitchens with a fidgeting Demby beside her, she decided to tuck away the information for later. “Sorry Demby, I got lost in thought there for a while. Thank you for keeping an eye on her and for telling me about her parents. You did an excellent job and I hope I can trust you with a task like this again in the future?”

His big eyes shone brightly at the compliment and he nodded eagerly. After that they said their goodbyes and with a last glance at the ever-busy house elves, Minerva retreated to her chambers.

  
An hour later she was finishing up on some paperwork when the door opened and her house guest walked in. They locked gazes and smiled at each other. It was becoming some sort of habit between them. Minerva leaned back in her chair and stretched her tall body before asking: “I trust Mr Potter and the two Weasleys found their way home safely?”

She thought she saw the young woman hesitate briefly, but then the brunette gave a nod of confirmation and asked her in return: “Would you like some tea before bed as well professor?”

“As long as it’s not frozen this time.” Minerva still remembered vividly what had happened at dinner.

The younger witch grinned gleefully and replied: “You must’ve known you had something coming after the sweetening charm. And you seemed very amused after your initial surprise.”

Remembering the laughs that the iced tea incident had elicited from everyone present, Minerva returned the grin lazily before changing the subject: “Speaking of surprises, what was that mischievous twinkle this morning about? Should I prepare for any other surprises this evening?”

“Come and see for yourself.” The smile on the younger witch had become even wider as she walked into the kitchen.

Minerva frowned but got up and followed her former pupil, intrigued despite herself. She saw the younger woman reach for the door handle of the destroyed guest room and Minerva made a move to stop her. Before she could do so, the door was already opening and what she could she of the room beyond was nothing like the destroyed disaster she remembered.

The stone walls and dark wooden floorboards were returned to their former glory. Even the old bed was repaired again, draped with burgundy and gold Gryffindor sheets, but that was not what made her gasp.

Part of the outer wall was restored but left room for a wide opening that was skilfully enchanted to resemble a little grotto. The plants that hung like a curtain over the opening’s edges had gathered some moisture from the quietly cascading water and sparkled in the day’s last rays of sunshine. It was gorgeous. An absolutely spectacular display of creational magic that took Minerva’s breath away.

The transfiguration mistress stood there watching in awe, when she registered a movement in her peripherical vision. Her young charge was nervously fidgeting and watching her reaction intently. “Do you like it? I mean, I know I took some liberty with doing this, but I left the room’s original structure intact so you can always turn it back to the way it was and …”

A simple “Hush” from Minerva interrupted the girl’s ramblings and she fell silent again. The Hogwarts Headmistress was at a loss for words but she made a conscious effort to relay her thoughts: “Do I like it? I love it! It looks exquisite! However did you manage this?”

The other witch explained which spells, charms and transformations she applied and it left Minerva to be even more impressed at her skill. When she mentioned as much, the young woman blushed and even looked away shyly.

_We definitely need to work on complements_ , the older witch noted to herself once more. She walked over to the blushing witch and placed a gentle hand below her chin, lifting the girl’s head up so she could look into hazel eyes. “I believe modesty is an appealing character trait dear, but not when it’s displayed over something like this, that warrants some honest pride. It’s impressive. You should try to own your achievements.”

The blush on the brunette’s cheeks deepened further but she’d gotten a look of delight and flashed white teeth in a smile to indicate her affirmation.

They were still staring into each other’s eyes and Minerva was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable under the intense gaze. She withdrew her hand and took a step back, letting her eyes wander across the rest of the room.

She chuckled at the spartan arrangement. “I could take you shopping for furniture if you’d like? If you want to add some items to complement your new room, that is. It appears you have quite the artful insight into these things.”

The younger witch’s expression changed rapidly from surprise to joy to something more hesitant before she replied: “I would love to, but I don’t have much money left and I doubt the Gringotts’ goblins are very eager to let me into their bank again. Not after the whole dragon fiasco where we destroyed their inner caverns.”

Minerva’s eyes went wide at the admission. So it was true then. Her three young lions had broken into Gringotts and flown back out on the back of dragon. _What were they thinking?!_ She sputtered her reaction: “I had thought that rumour to be false at least. Don’t worry about the money though, the trip’s on me. It’s still my guestroom after all so I’m paying for any additions, but pray tell: Who’s idea was it to ride a bloody dragon out of one of the most secure places in wizarding England?”

The sheepish look she got in return, answered that question and she inhaled sharply. “It would seem your brilliance was bordering on insanity that day, Miss Granger. Antagonising the goblins is never a good plan but to do it so openly might mean you and the boys will never be allowed into their bank again. I’d talk to Filius if I were you. Maybe he can appease his distant kin but at the very least, they’ll expect apologies from you all. And to return whatever it was you stole that day.”

The girl’s shoulders dropped and a distressed look morphed her features into one of defeat. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. We took a Horcrux from Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault and destroyed it in order to defeat Voldemort. Ron stabbed it with a Basilisk fang. It can’t be returned.”

The words were spoken in a deliberately even intonation, but Minerva’s eyes narrowed when she saw the younger woman wince at mentioning the vault’s owner.

“You’ve had an encounter with Bellatrix.” It wasn’t a question. The truth could be seen clearly in the anguished look that overtook the girl’s face. Minerva saw her reach subconsciously for the hidden scars and realisation dawned immediately.

“That bitch!” The venom in her voice surprised even herself and it startled the younger witch who looked up at Minerva in alarm. The older witch clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. It took an enormous effort to look away from the young woman and hide the hatred she knew was burning behind closed eyes. She was shaking with the restraint it took to supress the murderous thoughts swivelling through her mind. _That vile beast of a witch had dared to lay her hands on someone so innocent and pure! If Molly Weasley hadn’t killed her already, I would be out there now to find that atrocious woman and rip her to shreds for what she has done to the poor girl!_

A careful hand was placed on her arm and it shook Minerva out of her spiralling thoughts. A sad smile had crept up on the younger witch’s face as she spoke: “Please don’t professor. It was out of your hands and she’s gone now. Don’t give her the satisfaction to poison someone’s thoughts from beyond the grave. That woman will never torture anyone ever again.” Minerva’s eyes flashed again at the mention of torture.

The young Gryffindor sighed defeatedly and walked over to the lone bed where she sat down and pulled her knees up to her chest. The girl’s vulnerable position made Minerva force herself to take a few deep breaths and calm down. After a moment to recompose herself, she looked over to her former pupil and noticed the faraway look in the woman’s brown eyes. Minerva was about to apologise for her behaviour when the younger witch started talking:

“We were camping in the woods when Harry accidentally triggered the Taboo. He didn’t know. I’m sure if he had, he would’ve… Anyway, our campsite was stripped from it’s defensive enchantments and snatchers were upon us in seconds. I only had time to hit Harry with a jinx to disguise him before they captured us and took our wands. Most of them weren’t the brightest but Fenrir Greyback was with them. When they found the sword of Gryffindor and caught on to Ron’s lie about his made-up name, the werewolf decided to take us to Malfoy Manor. Despite Harry’s disguise holding up thus far, we knew we were doomed. Draco was home for the spring holidays and they forced him to identify us, which he didn’t by the way.”

Minerva stood rigid, listening to the recounting of a situation that could have easily ended with all of them dead. _They must’ve been scared out of their wits._ Her thoughts were interrupted when her young guest continued:

“At that point Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix walked in and they figured out who Ron and I really were and that Harry might be the one they didn’t recognise. Lucius was about to summon his master when Bellatrix noticed the sword of Gryffindor. It was supposed to be in her vault you see. She went into some sort of frenzy and took out the snatchers, Greyback and Lucius with one wave of her wand, as if it was nothing. She started screaming at us about where we’d gotten the sword. She was frantic but eventually she ordered the others to be taken to the dungeons and turned her anger on me. She had me under the Cruciatus curse for a while, repeating the same questions over and over again: ‘Where did we get the sword? Had we been in her vault? What else did we take?’ That’s when I realised what else must be in there. Another Horcrux. We hadn’t had any solid leads on where Voldemort could’ve hidden the remaining three. It was only because of that revelation that I somehow managed to keep my mouth shut, apart from the creaming her curses extracted from me. When she noticed I wasn’t going to answer her, she went for a different tactic and drew her knife.”

Silent tears had started flowing over Minerva’s face and she felt her bottom lip quiver over what her little lion had gone through. From what happened to the Longbottoms, they all knew the brutal efficiency of Bellatrix’ Cruciatus curses. And yet somehow, thankfully, this brave young woman before her had managed to resist the brutal onslaught Bellatrix had thrown at her.  
 _But at what cost… Her beautiful mind is blessedly still intact, but the trauma from such cruel torture will leave an imprint on her for many years to come, if not forever._

The steady flow of tears had reached her jaw by now, but she kept listening as the young woman valiantly advanced: “She had me pinned to the floor and I remember her awful breath and the childish glee in her black eyes when she started cutting into my arm.”

Minerva heard the young voice falter at this point and made a move to go to her distressed pupil, but the other woman held up a hand to stop her and continued:

“It was excruciating. I remember doing my best to get away from her but she wouldn’t relent and all I could do not to lose it was turn my head away from her black eyes and the knife and pray for it to be over soon.”

The young witch kept up her hand to indicate she wasn’t done, but Minerva saw the fortifying breath she had to take before she could go on.

“When the cutting stopped and I saw what she had done, I felt numb. I just lay there unmoving while she laughed at me. She repeated her former questions and out of desperation I told her it was a replica. They had another prisoner, a goblin named Griphook, brought back up to confirm my claim, which he thankfully did, despite knowing it was the real sword. Bellatrix relaxed when she thought I had told the truth about the sword and was about to summon Voldemort to the Manor.”

The girl’s voice broke at that point and she started sobbing violently. Minerva wanted to race to the poor woman and hold her and tell her everything would be alright but she stayed put.

She knew from previous experiences that the girl had to let it all out now or it might haunt her even more in the future. The first and most awful step to start dealing with such experiences was to talk about it. To not bear the burden of it alone. Minerva would bear it with her gladly if it meant helping this amazingly brave witch even the tiniest bit. She mustered her resolve and gently urged the other woman to keep talking: “What happened next?”

Years of eagerly answering her professor’s questions, must’ve prompted the younger witch to respond: “Dobby happened.”

The answer confused Minerva greatly, but before she could ask, a strangled voice was already elaborating:

“When they brought the boys to the dungeons, Harry managed to hang on to his Moleskin pouch. He had a shard of an enchanted mirror in there and somehow managed to contact Aberforth Dumbledore who in turn send Dobby the house elf to them. Dobby first took the other prisoners, Mr Olivander, Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas with him. At the same time they had send Pettigrew down there again to fetch the goblin, which he did. Afterwards he went down there for a second time and Harry and Ron managed to overpower him. They took his wand and came upstairs to try and break me free. It was complete chaos until Dobby showed up and dropped a chandelier on us all to drive us apart. We grabbed on to that little elf like the lifeline he was and he apparated us out of there. Unfortunately Bellatrix still had the knife she had used on me in her hand when the chandelier dropped and she must’ve thrown it at us the moment we disapparated. The knife hit Dobby straight in the chest and he died almost instantly after getting us to safety… Quite the reward for saving our lives.”

The last sentence was spoken in such a bitter, sarcastic manner, that Minerva knew it signalled the end of the story. There was not much she could do apart from walking over to the now completely drained girl.

Sinking down onto the mattress next to her, Minerva carefully gathered her former student in her arms and waited. For a long while the younger witch didn’t respond to her touch at all and Minerva was starting to get even more worried. Eventually she felt the young woman’s body shake with a suppressed sob.

In a hoarse but gentle tone Minerva said: “There you go lass, let it out. You’re safe here. It’s over. You’re allowed to break down.”

It was as if Hermione Granger had been waiting for her professor’s permission. A second sob was soon followed by many others and it was all Minerva could do to hold on to the crying woman as the smaller body shook with pain and grief. She felt the young Gryffindor clench trembling fingers into her robes, clinging desperately to her taller frame. Minerva tightened her grip around shaking shoulders and rocked the woman gently.

The sun had completely disappeared behind the horizon by the time the crying had stopped and the girl’s iron grip on her clothes had relaxed. A quiet snoring could be heard above the sound of the small waterfall tinkling peacefully over the enchanted window. The young witch had cried herself into such exhaustion that she’d fallen asleep.

Minerva held on to the light frame of her former student for a long time after that but eventually she disentangled herself. This time she transformed the clothes into the nightwear she knew the other woman preferred and rearranged the tense limbs into a more comfortable position. When she pulled the red sheets up to the woman’s chin, the contrast of pale skin against dark material was even more pronounced.

She got up and silently went to the door but when she turned around again, her heart cried out for the other witch’s pain. With a last mournful look at the sleeping figure, Minerva closed the door.

  
Hours later, an ear-splitting scream woke Minerva up. The lack of light signalled that is was the middle of the night. Due to it's shrillness, it took her a moment to recognize Hermione’s voice.

Within seconds she was out of her bed and running towards the distressed sound, wand in hand and ready to hex any intruders. She opened the door to the young woman’s room at full speed, wand raised and ready to cast.

Only no one was there.

Instead, she saw her former student thrashing about in the bed, lost in the throngs of a nightmare. Minerva hastily went over to the girl’s side and started making soothing shushing noises to try and calm the girl down. Which she did eventually, although her eyes remained scrunched shut as if she was still in pain.

After a few minutes of silently observing her former pupil, Minerva reached out to tuck a lock of unruly hair behind the girl’s ear.

She gasped when suddenly a hand came out of nowhere and almost crushed her wrist in a death grip. Chocolate brown eyes opened to frantically take in her surroundings and landed on the tall woman leaning over her.

Minerva attempted to soothe her pupil, but knew it was too late when she saw a wand leap into the girl’s outstretched hand. She saw the beginnings of a curse, but the exhaustion from the long day made her responding shield charm just a fraction of a second too slow.

Pain.

Sudden, searing and blinding pain. The nerve-endings on her chest felt like they were burning white-hot. The sensory overload made her knees buckle and she dropped down on the floor.

The impact made her cry out as another sharp jolt went through her upper body. It was soon followed by a blessed cold that slowly creeped over her. Something wet drenched her and she could feel a liquid between her fingers. When she lifted her hand, she could see the fluid more clearly. It was red.

Blood. Her blood. She was bleeding severely. Realisation sank in that the relieving cold was not a good sign. The numbness that was starting to set in was also not a good a sign.

She looked around in desperation and almost instantly her gaze was captured by hazel eyes. Dazed, brown hazel eyes. Hermione.

A fog seemed to be lifted from those eyes and they widened in horror.

Minerva tried to speak, but only a hoarse whisper came out. Cold. She felt so cold.

The last thing she saw was a frantic Hermione Granger sprinting towards her. 

Her vision darkened and she didn’t have enough strength left to keep her head up. While still fighting to remain conscious, she faintly heard the girl produce a heart-breaking wail.

As her senses finally gave out, everything blended together until nothing remained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... How did I do with the cliff-hanger?


	5. Cursed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first: a big thank you for all those reactions about the cliffhanger!   
> I can't promise that I won’t do something like that again, but I can tell you that this chapter is to make up for it 😉  
> Hope you’ll enjoy!

Hermione had been reliving the nightmare of her torture by Bellatrix Lestrange when she reacted to a touch on her face. Still trying desperately to fight off her attacker, she grasped whatever part of Bellatrix she could reach and tried to push it away from her.

The sound of a gasp made her somehow realise this was not the same setting and she tried to summon her wand. She felt the piece of wood leap into her hand and twirled it into the first offensive curse she could think of. Her attacker was flung away and she was already halfway out of the room when she heard a familiar voice exclaim her name in a strangled cry.

She dropped dead in her tracks and whipped her head towards the sound. Taking in the crumpled figure on the floor with alarm, she became aware that she was staring into wide, green eyes. _Definitely not Bellatrix’s eyes_.

Realisation sank in as the pained face of her favourite professor came into focus. Her own eyes widened in shock and she stammered “P-p… professor?”

A faint smile transformed the gaunt face of the older woman and thin lips moved to voice a barely audible whisper “It’s alright Miss Granger. You’re safe.’”

Hermione saw the older witch’s head drop to the ground and froze at the amount of blood that was quickly pooling around her former professor’s robes.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!”, she screamed when she realised what she had done, that she had cast _Sectumsempra_ on the woman she held in such high regard. Trying and failing to steady her trembling hand, she started casting the counter-curse. Her panicked state allowed for little effect though. Seeing that she was quickly losing the now unconscious witch, she frantically looked around for anyone, anything that could aid them. Finding nothing, she cried out desperately “HELP! SOMEONE HELP!”

In the meantime she’d started gathering the nearby sheets and pressed them against the older witch’s wound to staunch the bleeding. The Gryffindor crest on the cloth drew her attention. Taking in the sight of her recently transformed bedroom, she finally realised they were still at Hogwarts. Holding on tightly to the older witch, she apparated them to the only place she could think of.

\---

Poppy Pomfrey had barely taken a step outside her ward after making her midnight rounds when all hell seemed to break loose. Startled by a loud BANG she spun around, wand at the ready, only to almost drop it again when she spotted a hysterical Hermione Granger clutching a blood-drenched Minerva McGonagall.

The effect on the wounded survivors in the hospital beds was imminent. Panicked shouting erupted over the clattering of falling objects, resulting in utter chaos.

With adrenaline now coursing through her system, she sprinted to the pair and momentarily blocked out her surroundings. Waving her wand to make hospital curtains appear around them, she shielded the two Griffyndors from view. “Oh Merlin, Minerva! Miss Granger, what happened?!”, she exclaimed while taking in the damage on her colleagues body.

“Sec- Sectumsempra curse”, came the halting reply.

Cursing, Poppy began muttering “Vulnera Sanentur. Restore sanguiem.” One of the remaining Healers skidded to a halt next to them and started chanting the healing spell as well, their combined efforts taking hold rapidly. Soon the blood could be seen creeping back into severed veins and tissues were starting to seal itself back together. “Miss Granger, who did this!? Are we under attack again?! Where did it happen?!”

Wide brown eyes stared up to the mediwitch and the girl started trembling, but after a gulp she stammered her reply: “I… I did this… I… I was having a nightmare… I believe… and, and I must have thought professor McGonagall was attacking me.” Another gulp. “I lashed out with the first spell that came to mind and… and… Madam Pomfrey, please, please tell me she’ll survive!”

With a baffled look, Poppy took in the girl’s balled fists, trembling lip and silent tears leaking from eyes that were once again trained on the motionless body of Minerva McGonagall. _This girl bested the formidable witch who survived three wars?! Surely not…?_

Deciding that she would question Minerva about how it had occurred later, she looked at the other Healer who was still working on patching up the Headmistress. Feeling her unspoken question, he gave a nod and continued his work. Poppy allowed herself a relieved sigh and gently squeezed the girl’s shoulder, quickly redrawing her hand when she saw the girl flinch.

Standing up, she slipped through the curtains and cast S _onoros_ , addressing the panicked occupants in the ward. “Everyone calm down please! This was a singular occurrence. We are not under attack. Our professor will recover swiftly. I insist that you all return to your beds immediately.”

Summoning a blood replenishing potion, she returned to Minerva’s side and slowly poured it down the woman’s throat. The other Healer handed her two more vials and stood up. He studied the younger woman sitting there on the floor, right where she had appeared minutes earlier and he silently summoned a third potion which he handed to Madam Pomfrey.

Exhaling heavily, Poppy levitated Minerva and wrapped an arm around Hermione’s shoulders, before steering them out of the ward. She made sure the girl saw al the movements coming and was relieved when Hermione complied without a word. The way the girl had her head hanging forward with downcast eyes, spoke of intense guilt and it prompted Poppy to whisper words of reassurance.

Rounding the corner, the mediwitch whispered a password to the painting next to the hospital’s entrance doors and the three women entered Poppy’s private chambers. She lowered a very pale but thankfully stable Minerva onto her own unmade bed before ushering the girl into an adjacent guest room. Waiting patiently as the girl gulped down a Calming Draught and a Dreamless Sleep potion, Poppy steered her towards to small bed and watched as the potions took effect.

Now that both Griffyndors were out cold for at least a few hours, Poppy closed the door and made her way back to the main room. With a complete lack of gracefulness, she let herself fall on the fluffy couch beside the fireplace. She felt the adrenaline leave her system and was sound asleep mere moments later.

\--- --- ---

“I’m telling you Minerva, she did not just walk in! She apparated the both of you right in the middle of my ward!”

Exasperated, Minerva let her head tip forward and pinched the bridge of her nose. With her eyes scrunched shut, the professor forced her brain to mull it over.

She had woken earlier that morning and had been looking around with befuddlement, when Poppy had appeared next to the unfamiliar bed. She’d been fussed over and forced to eat an exuberant amount of breakfast, before the mediwitch had calmed down enough to start answering her questions. Logically, the first one had been to ask what the bloody hell had happened, leading to the increasing headache that had started to build since then.

Yes, she remembered a panicking Hermione Granger casting a spell on her. She remembered the pain, but she also remembered the young woman had rushed to her side upon realising the damage. There had been a soul-tearing wail from the girl, before Minerva lost consciousness.

And now Poppy Pomfrey was telling her they had popped out of thin air on Hogwarts grounds! Everyone knew you couldn’t apparate in or near the castle! The ancient wards prevented this and Minerva knew those were still intact after the battle, otherwise the Healers would’ve been able to transport the wounded to St Mungo’s by side-along apparition or portkey. As it were, they’d had to conscript some of the remaining house elves to pop them back and forth between the two hospitals.

At this memory, Minerva prompted aloud: “Maybe one of the elves came to our aid?”

She noticed Poppy considering her words as the nurse started pacing the space near the fireplace where they had relocated to. “I don’t know Minerva, I didn’t see a house elf and I was with you two in mere seconds. Maybe we could ask them?”

“Or maybe we should just wait until Miss Granger wakes up and ask her directly instead of speculating?” Halting her colleague’s nervous march with a hand gesture, the transfiguration teacher was about to say more when a third voice addressed them.

“Thank you for valuing my opinion professor, but I have no idea how I managed it.”

Both witches whirled around to look at the other side of the room, where a wrecked Hermione Granger was looking out the window. The girl was hugging her arms tightly around herself and looked even more tired than the previous evening.

Bewildered, Poppy looked from the girl to the still closed door of the guestroom on the other side of the apartment. “Miss Granger! How on earth…?”, the mediwitch began to say, but she was startled into silence when the girl inaudibly popped over to said door.

Both older witches gasped and stared at the young woman who just shrugged at them. Not meeting Minerva’s eyes, Hermione whispered: “I’m very glad to see you’re alright professor”, before opening the door behind her and walking into the darkened bedroom where she had slept that night.

Minerva raised an eyebrow at her former student’s behaviour and turned to look at Poppy. Her colleague’s earlier bewildered expression was replace with a smirk and she made a shooing gesture at Minerva to indicated she should follow the girl. The transfiguration teacher inhaled deeply and straightened her back before doing so. _This is going to be a long day…_

_\---_

Hermione had woken up to the raised voices of Madam Pomfrey and, she realised with quite some relief, professor McGonagall. _Thank Merlin I haven’t killed my favourite professor!_ With a pang of guilt she remembered her almost murder the previous evening and shuddered.

Hoping she could beg the respectable witch’s forgiveness, she hopped out of the bed and went for the door. Handle already in hand, she froze when she heard them discuss the apparition. Frowning, she suddenly realised that apparating on Hogwart’s grounds was indeed supposedly impossible. However when she let last night’s actions pass before her mind’s eye, she could only conclude that that was exactly what she had done. _It shouldn’t have been possible and yet…_

Curiously, she thought about it for a bit. _Did I?_ Deciding there was only one way to know for sure, she released the handle and concentrated on the room beyond the bedroom door. With all the practice she’d had while on the run for Voldemort’s followers, she didn’t even have to concentrate that hard before turning on the spot and disappearing.

With the familiar feeling of being forced through a tube, she pushed out to allow for a quiet landing. _Ok, so I am indeed able to apparate in the castle even when no one should._ _Weird._ _But when has anything ever been normal with me?_ With a quiet sigh, she hugged her arms closely to her upper body, feeling a chill course through her that had nothing to do with the room’s temperature.

Contemplating this newest twist in her life she gazed out the window, lost in thought. She heard her professor mention her name and suddenly realised the older witches were still on the topic of apparition. She decided to resolve their issue: “Thank you for valuing my opinion professor, but I have no idea how I managed it.”

She winched at the formality of her own words, but she could barely look at the older witch. Not after she almost ended the life of the person she respected more than any other. She noticed the baffled looks out of the corner of her eye and almost scoffed at the absurdness of the situation.

Apparating again towards the bedroom door, she hesitated to enter. Blinking back the tears that threatened to fall as her guilt nearly swallowed her whole, she added quietly: “I’m very glad to see you’re alright professor.”

Not managing to look at the transfiguration teacher, she entered the bedroom again. Forcing out a shaky breath, Hermione tried to compose herself. _Damn it_ , she scolded herself, _I’ve survived a bloody war! I need to keep it together and apologise to the woman properly!_ Rubbing a hand over her face rather forcibly, she turned around with her mind working on phrasing her heart-felt apology.

And almost bumped into Minerva McGonagall. Instinctively she tried to put some distance between them, not wanting to hurt the woman again and not knowing how angry she would be. She looked up to have her gaze held by emerald green eyes and she felt oh so small in the shadow of the tall witch.

Wrinkles appeared in the corner of the older witch’s eyes when she smiled reassuringly at her former student. The professor spread her arms outward and slowly closed them around the younger woman’s tense frame.

Hermione stiffened, shocked for being hugged by the teacher she had hit with a cutting curse not ten hours prior. The arms tightened further, pulling them together gently and she heard the professor whisper directly into her ear: “I am very glad to see you’re alright too Miss Granger.”

Hermione couldn’t help it: the dam broke and tears of relief silently started flowing over her cheeks. Clutched at her teacher’s robes, she buried her head in the fabric covering the witch’s shoulder. Violent sobbing made her tremble and she felt a hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Doing her best to speak around her ragged breathing, she stuttered: “I am so, so sorry for doing that to you! I didn’t mean to! I didn’t realise…!”

Her voice broke and she started sobbing uncontrolledly now. A slender hand was placed against the back of her head while the other continued the circular movement on her back.

“I know Hermione, I know. I am not angry with you. Frankly, I believe it is me who should apologise for not anticipating a strong reaction from someone who has recently been in battle.”

Hermione felt a weight being lifted upon hearing those words and she even managed to smile at the use of her first name. Taking a few steadying gulps of air, she caught a whiff of her professor’s perfume. It sparked the memory of days spent in the transfiguration classroom and she felt a bit better, remembering easier days. She squeezed her arms around the professor’s waist before letting go and taking a step back. Tilting her head up, she met sincere green eyes again and smiled shyly at the tall witch.

Returning the smile, Minerva defused the tension by asking if she would like to join her for tea. Nodding, Hermione straightened up and followed the older witch into the main room. Madam Pomfrey had left, so they sat themselves down on the comfortable couches before the fireplace.

\---

Minerva’s mind was in turmoil as they took their respective seats. _What has gotten into me? When have I become so quick to offer a hug to a former student? Where did that come from?_

Sure, she had comforted quite a few of the little ones who had gotten homesick in the first weeks of attending Hogwarts, but once they got past that stage, they turned to classmates for anything emotions-related. She knew it was because of her very strict demeanour, but it served the goal of keeping their minds firmly on the progressively difficult transfiguration tasks in her classroom. Rolanda Hooch and Severus Snape had applied the same concept in their teaching methods, although the latter had instilled fear instead of respect.

Curiously, she turned her gaze to the fidgeting girl sitting on the couch opposite her. Hermione Granger had always been a bit more of a teacher’s pet of course, with her endless thirst for knowledge and questions going beyond the basic understanding of the lessons. She smiled fondly at the memory.

Yes, the girl had always been a bit of an outsider due to the fact that she spent so much time with her nose in a book. It had worried Minerva in the girl’s first trimester at Hogwarts, seeing her being bullied by her mostly jealous peers. She’d been surprised but afterwards very glad to see the friendship between Hermione and the boys develop after that first Halloween.

Minerva’s chuckle must have reached the girl’s ears, because she saw a questioning eyebrow raise on the young face. Smiling, she shared her musings: “I was just remembering the mountain troll you and Mr Potter and Mr Weasley knocked out during your first year. You three nearly gave me a heart attack. And you continued to do so in the years that followed, I might add.”

“Well, in our defence, we didn’t exactly plan those things.” The younger witch’s face had flushed pink at the reminder of their knack for finding themselves in a tight spot during the six years they’d been at Hogwarts.

Minerva gave a full laugh at that and saw the girl relax enough to chuckle along with her. Oh, it felt wonderful to see the girl laugh once more. Minerva had already started to miss her pupil’s teasing from the previous days.

Meeting the girl’s hazel eyes, she turned pensive again and hesitated slightly before addressing the elephant in the room. “From your earlier demonstration, I believe we can rule out any involvement from the house elves or any other outside source at all, but I have to ask: Do you know how it’s possible that you can apparate when no one else seems to be able to?”

With a sigh, Hermione slumped back into the backrest of the couch and rubbed a small hand over her face. “I honestly don’t know professor. Is it possible that it’s not just me? Maybe there are others?”

Minerva was already shaking her head. “While we can’t rule it out, I can tell you that many have tried, both during the battle and afterwards. Poppy has attempted it this morning, but wasn’t able to do so. As newly reinstated Headmistress of this school, I probably could but Poppy made me swear no to strain myself today.”

When the young woman looked down guiltily again, Minerva added: “At this point it seems likely that it’s just you, my dear.”

If Minerva could read her body language sufficiently, the younger witch didn’t seem exactly thrilled about the statement. She saw the girls eyes stare into the distance and knew from some experiences in the past that she was lost in thought.

“Maybe it has something to do with the curse Bellatrix placed on me?”, the young witch said, after contemplating in silence for a few more minutes. “Maybe it somehow interferes with my magic? Could that be why I couldn’t cast a patronus the other day? It thought I was just too tired, but maybe that wasn’t the reason.”

Minerva’s eyes drifted over to where the scar was hidden and thought about the new theory. “It might be possible I suppose, though we can’t know for sure. We really don’t know anything about the curse or how it might affect you. That being said, I suggest we start looking for a curse-breaker as soon as possible.”

Brown eyes lit up at the suggestion but almost instantly a frown appeared as well. She seemed to be weighing her words before she finally asked: “We?”

Picking up on the reason for her hesitance, Minerva quickly sought to reassure her former pupil: “Yes, we. I’m not going anywhere lass. And assuming you won’t be opposed to the idea, I would like to join you when you go out to speak to someone. For moral support or just to apparate you there and back, whatever you feel comfortable with. Poppy is already attempting to contact some experts on dark curses and I’m positive she’ll find someone soon.”

Relief shone through hazel eyes that had turned towards her again. The young Gryffindor’s reply came on a grateful tone: “Thank you professor. And yes, I would feel better if you came with me.”

“That’s settled then”, the Headmistress replied with a smile. Despite Minerva’s best efforts, the younger woman’s posture was still hesitant and so she sighed internally before deciding to give the situation a final attempt.

She moved her hand to the side and patted the cushions on the couch beside her. The girl carefully stood up and walked over to the indicated spot. When she sat down, she kept a certain distance between them and Minerva could see the younger witch was scared to even touch her.

_Why couldn’t she have cast a simple shield charm last night? Why did it have to be the cutting curse?_ , Minerva sighed to herself, knowing very well that that was the reason for the girl’s hesitance. The previous days they had spent together had gotten them over their initial polite distance and Minerva now strongly felt the loss of the careful familiarity they had started to build. _Well, we can’t have that_ , she thought to herself, before slowly reaching out and pulling the girl sideways against her.

The younger witch’s body initially went rigid at the touch, but eventually she complied and returned the hug more fully. They remained lying there for a good long while, both calmed by the physical contact. _And that makes three hugs? Four? Seriously Minerva, you’re getting too mollified in your old age..._ W _ell, it’s too late to turn around now anyway and she finally seems a bit more relaxed as well._ It was a spur-of-the-moment thought that made her say it, but it certainly originated from the comfortable proximity. “Miss Granger? Seeing as we’ll be spending some more time together, I would like to invite you to use my first name from now on.”

Absolute silence followed her request and Minerva smiled internally. She could almost see the shocked expression on her pupil’s face and she was almost as shocked herself with the reply.

“Minerva?”, the young witch asked shyly, but without hesitance.

“Yes?”, she answered with a curious look at the woman who was still comfortably plied against her. “What is it lass?”

The brunette finally turned her head up to look at her with a soft smile. “You can call me by my first name too.”

“As you wish… Hermione.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always any feedback is appreciated!


	6. Little steps

Hermione had insisted that Minerva would take it slow that day, still very much worried about the residual damage her cutting curse had caused.

When she had admittedly fussed over the older woman like a mother hen for too long, Minerva had regained some of her fabled stern demeanour and Hermione had had to compromise. The Headmistress had taken up a seat in the Great Hall, from where she could orchestrate the castle’s comings and goings under the watchful eyes of her colleagues. She’d made the older witch swear to remain there and not start running around the place, like she knew Minerva had originally intended to do.

That promise was the only reason Hermione was now walking down the corridors alone, on her way to the library to help Madam Pince. Apparently the librarian’s sanctuary had taken the brunt force of some wayward spells and was in dire need of repairs. Hermione smiled at Minerva’s insight. The older witch had known Hermione would’ve wanted to remain by her side, but she also knew her heart would go out to the countless books that need to be repaired and organised. The young woman was still thinking about the wonderful professor she was now allowed to address by her first name, when she reached her destination.

She stopped dead in her tracks at the amount of destruction she saw there.

Trampled books, crumpled, torn out papers and broken bookcases littered the once so peaceful library. She sucked in an audible breath and took a step forwards to try and make sense of the chaos.

“Don’t step on the books please! They’re already quite damaged enough!”, called a sharp voice from somewhere out of sight.

Seconds later the voice was followed by it’s owner when Madam Pince ducked out from between two bookcases. “Oh, Miss Granger it’s you! Finally someone I can trust to not wreak more havoc upon these books. Please tell me you’re here to help me sort through this mess?”

Hermione nodded numbly, wide eyes still trying to process the extent of damage that had befallen the place. _How is it_ , she wondered, _that I could fight in a battle, live in my former professor’s quarters and break up with Ron before we were even together and do all kinds of troubling things… but the sight of a library in disarray leaves me speechless?_

Her mind caught up rather quickly though when Madam Pince started talking about ways to clean the place up again. The librarian ducked between the bookcases as she spoke and Hermione was left scrambling after the witch to catch up.

After nearly running through a tunnel of hastily piled books, they emerged near the Restricted Section and Hermione followed her into what must be the other witch’s office. Things in here were blessedly more organised and she looked around curiously when she noticed some tomes that appeared absurdly old but well taken care off.

Madam Pince must’ve caught her staring because she started talking again: “This is my private collection. I’ve devoted most of the previous day to restore my office and salvage these beauties. If you could help me in the Restricted Section today, I could let you read some of these in return for your help?”

Hermione’s hands were already itching with the desire to get a hold on those books, but she managed to rein it in. “I’m honoured Madam Pince, but you don’t have to do that. Surely that wouldn’t be fair to other volunteers?”

“What other volunteers?”, the librarian laughed, “They’re all milling about outside, busy with the heavier works and enjoying the sun. No one but the two of us and maybe Minerva would willingly get stuck in here, digging through piles of books that aren’t even appreciated by most.”

Hermione couldn’t help it, she got distracted by that little titbit of information. “Minerva likes books too?” The question got her curious look from the librarian.

“Didn’t she show you her own book collection yet? I thought you were sleeping with her?”

Hermione almost chocked on air at the way that last question was formulated.

“Oh dear, my apologies, that last sentence came out a bit weird. I didn’t mean to imply anything of course.”

Hermione had gone wide-eyed at the absurdity of it. She meant to quickly rectify the insinuation, but because she knew the librarian hadn’t meant it that way, her words somehow got out incoherently. Her stuttering apparently gave the other witch the wrong impression anyway, for she started fidgeting and rambling.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with it if you were sleeping together, you’re both adults after all! Well maybe the age difference is a bit of a stretch, but there’ve been other couples and they made it work. Although now that I come to think of it, there were these …”

By now Hermione felt embarrassed enough that she wished for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. Instead she waved her arms in a wide gesture that made the librarian finally, thankfully stop talking so she could intervene before the woman made it even worse. “Madam Pince please, let’s stop here. I am indeed staying in Minerva’s guestroom to sleep at night, but just so we’re clear, that’s all I do there. There’s nothing … else going on.”

The other woman breathed a sigh of relief at Hermione’s interruption and gave another apology. The awkward silence after that ridiculous conversation hung in the air between them for a bit longer, until Hermione cleared her throat and changed topics: “You said something about the Restricted Section?”

She could see her question got the other witch’s mind back on track for she nodded vigorously. With the same exuberant energy she had displayed earlier, the librarian was out of her chair and pushing past Hermione while saying: “Yes I did! And we’ll have our work cut out for us! Oh, grab those dragonskin gloves over there, will you? This morning I had the Poisonous book of Poisons trying to blindside me and I know that there are other fanged books at large in there as well. They’ve gotten quite restless after their shelves were blown out from under them, you see. Do you know the required spells to appease wayward books, dear? Feel free to cast a _Protego_ should any of them attack you, but I prefer cushioning charms in order not to damage them. And if there are any that …”

Hermione made a quick lunge to grab two pairs of protective gloves off a nearby shelf and hastily followed the other witch again, listening to her rambled instructions. _For a witch who spends a lot of her time telling others to keep quiet in the library, she certainly can go off on a litany_ , Hermione laughed to herself. _I much prefer this informative ramble from the previous one though. I mean, what was that about? Me and Minerva? Sleeping together? That one deserved the title of most absurd comment of the year! And that’s including all the blood-supremacy bigotry I’ve heard in the last months! How in Merlin’s name did she come up with that?_

_Although,_ she had to admit to herself _, Minerva does have this kind of essence that speaks to me. Purely intellectual of course. Even with our blossoming friendship and the late night talks and the playful banter and the hugs and joking and …_ Hermione forced her random thoughts to a screeching halt right there, but it left her a bit puzzled. _I mean, sure, I can see the woman’s appeal, but … not like that, right? It isn’t anything like I’ve had with Victor or even Ron for that matter. It isn’t._ The librarian’s misplaced comment left a fraction of doubt in her mind anyway.

Those thoughts however were easily abandoned when they reached the gates to the Restricted Section. The iron fences had somehow survived the damage which was a fortunate thing, for they kept the more dangerous books caged in their allotted area. Beyond the metal bars, Hermione could see flying books of all sizes chasing each other. Some of the bigger tomes had just caught a pocket-sized one and the small thing was flailing pathetically under the onslaught.

Madam Pince shot off a well-aimed _Stupefy_ towards the fighting books and they all dropped to the floor, stunned. The librarian quickly opened the gate and motioned for Hermione to follow her inside. She had barely stepped one foot through the entrance when a flock of little lime-green books appeared out of nowhere and came straight at them. Hermione reacted with a hasty _Impedimenta_ and their flight was stopped mid-air.

There was the echoing sound of the gate being closed and then Madam Pince had stepped up to the hovering books with a scowl. “Thank you for that my dear, those blasted little buggers have been swarming me anytime I came in here. They’re not usually this rude though.” She was now plucking them out of the air and piling them under her arm.

Following her example, Hermione wondered if she would still be able to like books by the end of the day. They got to work anyway, under the crushing noises of a Monster Book of Monsters, chomping happily at the corner of a wooden shelf.

\----

“Minerva, a word if you please.”

Minerva whirled around to look at Poppy Pomfrey, who had addressed her in a clearly annoyed tone. They were standing at the bottom of the staircases outside the Great Hall and she quickly stowed away her wand, knowing fully well that the mediwitch had seen her transforming the steps. She straightened her tall body to her most commanding height and looked down at the shorter witch before she replied: “Of course Poppy, what seems to be the problem?”

The other witch didn’t appear intimidated at all as she took a deliberate step into Minerva’s personal space and hissed: “You! You are the problem! I could’ve guessed that you’d ignore my medical expertise and start casting spells left and right when I wasn’t looking, but you promised Miss Granger that you’d take it easy! What do you hope to accomplish here? Do you want to drop down in front of everyone and have the girl feeling even more guilty?”

Minerva bristled at the accusation. Sure, she had been casting more spells than what was probably wise for someone who was still recovering from blood loss so she might’ve deserved a little scolding. But to drag Hermione into this was far below the belt!

She was about to say as much when the mediwitch suddenly looked over Minerva’s shoulder at something and her expression turned very smug. “Miss Granger, dear! What on earth happened to you?”

Minerva whirled around for a second time within the same minute and she had to admit her blood pressure was making all the twirling rather unpleasant. Any thoughts about her own physical condition swiftly vanished though when she took in the sight before her:

Hermione was indeed descending the stairs towards them, but she looked like she had taken a shower in ink. Very shiny and very thick, purple ink. Minerva had to stifle a laugh behind her quickly raised hand, but young woman had noticed anyway. Fortunately she took it stride, shooting Minerva a glare that was softened by a wide grin.

“Yes, I know, I look ridiculous.” The young witch came to stand next to her and Poppy took a step back to include her in their little circle. Whatever it was that had happened to her, the girl didn’t appear to be very bothered by it. At the raised eyebrow of both Minerva and Poppy, she explained:

“I had a minor disagreement with some books. They didn’t feel like getting back on their shelves and started spewing ink at me. Trust me when I say they paid for it. Unfortunately, I haven’t managed to vanish the ink with any of the spells I know. I was hoping someone here could help me.”

Both Minerva and Poppy drew their wands and attempted to vanish the mess. The effect was nothing like they had anticipated though.

Hermione must’ve gathered from their bewildered expressions that something had gone wrong, for she sighed and asked: “Let me guess, it changed colour again?”

Both older witches could only blink at her. Hermione took a look at her clothes and chuckled. “‘Rainbow coloured, huh? I hadn’t gotten that one yet. Must be the combination of your spells. Any other suggestions?”

After a few more attempts it became clear the ink couldn’t be vanished, banished, transfigured or siphoned off. Minerva eventually suggested that she’d go take a long shower with plenty of soap and see if that would get it out. With a resigned sigh and a “thank you” for their efforts, the young witch went back up the stairs, looking very pink.

When Minerva faced her colleague again, they both couldn’t help but chuckle. “I can’t help but remember a young Griffyndor who came to my ward a few years back, after an incident with Polyjuice potion and a cat hair.”, the mediwitch commented. “That girl back then was frantic about anyone seeing her altered appearance. The one walking up those stairs now seems to take her latest predicament rather well, considering she doesn’t know how long the ink will stay on.”

Smiling at both the absurdity of the situation and at the way Hermione seemed to have grown over the years, Minerva replied: “Yes that she did... I’m also glad to see that despite their defensive mechanisms, the library books seem to have put her in a good mood.”

Poppy looked up at that, a dangerous grin slowly taking over her features. “It would be a shame to break that good mood by telling her that her favourite professor almost toppled over, wouldn’t you say?”

Green eyes flashed in accusation, but Minerva could feel the mediwitch was backing her into a corner with that threat. She sighed in defeat and answered: “Yes that would be rather unfortunate.” Looking down at her colleague’s victorious grin, she added: “Fine, you win. What do you want me to do?”

Poppy was smiling like Christmas had come early that year.

_For Merlin’s sake Poppy, don’t gloat_ , she thought wryly but she kept her face neutral, awaiting the other witch’s judgment.

“Take a day off.”

“I beg your pardon?” Minerva raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

The mediwitch narrowed her eyes and was unyielding with her answer. “You heard me Minerva. I want you to take a day off. Tomorrow preferably.”

Minerva tensed up. _How can she even think that I’d leave the school in such a state?_

Her incredulity must’ve shown, because the mediwitch exclaimed: “By Morgana’s tits, it’s a one day vacation, Minerva, not something awful! Look, Septima Vector and Irma Pince took a day off yesterday, Aurora Sinistra went to see her parents today and Filius and Pomona are going away for the weekend. Would you please get that stick out of your arse and relax for a day? You’re not in your twenties anymore, your body needs to recuperate after what you’ve endured.” Poppy’s cheeks had reddened by now and she wasn’t budging when she made her ultimatum. “You either take the day off tomorrow, or I’ll tell your new roommate that you almost fainted today. It’s as simple as that.” As an afterthought she added: “Oh and speaking of Miss Granger, why don’t you take her along as well? She could benefit from a less strained day too.”

Minerva blinked at the turnabout in their discussion. It was nicely played though. Poppy knew she cared for the girl and she was using it against her. _Sometimes, Poppy, I think you’re way too smart to be a mediwitch at this school._ She relented with a disbelieving sigh: “Fine, fine! I’ve wanted to take Hermione shopping anyway, so we might as well do it tomorrow. There! Are you satisfied now?”

It was Poppy’s turn to blink, in shock apparently, Minerva noted with some amusement. “Are you really surprised I relented after you drove such a hard bargain?”

“You’re going shopping? You?”, the mediwitch eventually stuttered.

Minerva rolled her eyes at her colleague and replied with a little bite in her voice: “‘Yes I go shopping occasionally. With the right company it can be as pleasant as it is necessary. You should try it next time you want a change of wardrobe or furniture.”

“Hold your hexes Minerva, I know what shopping is and that it can be fun. I just didn’t know that you knew!”, Poppy smirked. “By the way it seems to me as if you’re finding a lot more things to be quite enjoyable these days. Is that also because of the right company?”

Minerva raised her trademark eyebrows in confusion: “What are you implying?”

The mediwitch simply laughed at her before responding: “Easy now, remember your blood pressure. I wasn’t implying anything. I was simply saying that I’m glad you decided to befriend the girl, it seems to agree with the both of you.”

Minerva was saved from finding a reply by Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick who were calling them over to the Great Hall for dinner. Minerva followed them mutely, her mind whirring.

_What have I done so differently these last days that Poppy is under the impression that anything has changed?_ Was the time spent with Hermione really affecting her mood in a noticeable manner? It certainly wasn’t something she did consciously, but she had to admit she genuinely enjoyed their conversations _. Maybe the developing friendship is something that has made my days seems brighter lately? Or maybe it’s just because the war is finally over and they could start rebuilding. That seems like a more plausible explanation._ With that, she sat down at the table with her colleagues and listened to them talk happily about the progress of the day.

\---

Standing in front of the mirror, Hermione observed her little disaster and let out a frustrated groan. Half an hour in the shower, scrubbing so vigorously that her scalp tingled and this was the result. She had managed to get the ink off of her skin thankfully, but her hair seemed to have absorbed the substance. _At least it isn’t bright pink anymore_ , she thought wryly, before letting out a defeated sigh and marching out of the bathroom.

Walking over to her room, she used her wand to dry her hair into a frizzy mess, which she then tied into a high ponytail. She summoned her clothes from the small beaded bag and let out a huff. Apart from the red dress she had worn at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, she only had threadbare clothes left. _I really should find myself some new clothes soon_ , she mused.

_Well, it can’t be helped now_. Ignoring the dress, she pulled on a dull green turtleneck and a pale blue jeans with frayed edges. A loud gurgling noise resonated from her stomach and a glance at the clock told her it was six thirty p.m. so she hurried down for dinner.

Five minutes later she took up a seat next to Madam Pince who shot her a sympathetic look at the sight of her hair. Minerva, who was sitting on the opposite side of the librarian, did the same, but Hermione saw the professor’s lips twitch up slightly. She narrowed her eyes and gave the older woman a mock glare in return, before shrugging and digging in on the food.

It was delicious as always and she just enjoyed the taste and the company and let herself relax a little after the eventful day. She let her gaze drift over the other tables and counted about a hundred volunteers that were present today. _That’s more than yesterday or the day before. The professors must be thrilled with all the extra help they’re getting._ She noticed some skinny-looking wizards and witches who were filling small containers with food and she asked Minerva about it.

The older witch smiled a little sadly when she explained. “The war affected the wizarding economy in a negative way. The Ministry is trying to have things up and running again to get people their jobs back, but most have been unemployed for a while now. The professors at Hogwarts can use some extra hands with the construction works, so I’ve offered free meals to anyone willing to help out. It’s not much, but for some it means they can regain some strength and feed their families.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Hermione’s words were accompanied by a warm smile for the new Headmistress.

“It’s a way to tide them over until better days arrive again. Which, thanks to you and those two boys, should be in the near future.”

“Won’t the school run out of funding after a while though?”

“Severus kept our vaults well stocked. Despite what many will say about him, he did care for the school. After I learned the truth about his true loyalties, I’ve been looking back at events from the past school year and asked myself if maybe he didn’t try to keep the Carrows in check more than we thought. Their methods were undeniably cruel but, despite their obvious bloodlust, nobody died.” The older witch’s face turned sour before she concluded: “Small consolation for those who’ve been scarred for life though.”

Considering her next words carefully, Hermione replied: “Professor Snape was a very secretive person, Minerva. Nobody but him knew how or why he did what he did. I’m grateful for all he was able to do though. He actually managed to deliver some sorely-needed items to us when we were on the run. He helped us destroy his alleged master.”

Madam Pince, who had been listening quietly up until that point, cut in hesitantly: “But… He killed Albus.”

Noticing the still obvious grief on Minerva’s face at the mention of the deceased Headmaster, Hermione was a bit reluctant to respond: “We learned recently that professor Dumbledore had been suffering from a curse that was steadily progressing. He knew he was dying and so did professor Snape. It was a mercy kill. One that was arranged between the two of them to ensured professor Snape’s position amongst Voldemort’s inner circle.”

Her words left both older witches in silence for a while. The lack of response from Minerva, made Hermione look up at her worriedly until she caught her gaze. There was sadness to be found those emerald orbs, but no surprise and Hermione suddenly realised that her former teacher had already known this.

Before either of them could share their knowledge about those events any further, Madam Pince spoke up. “If what you’re saying is true, then I believe we should let the wizarding world know and exonerate his name.”

It was Minerva who looked over to her colleague and replied: “Don’t worry Irma, we will. Even you will be surprised at some of the orchestrating he did.”

The librarian was about to ask for some further explanation when Poppy Pomfrey interrupted: “Orchestrating? Are you talking about that shopping trip tomorrow?”

“Shopping trip?”, Hermione asked. The comment had surprised her and she’d responded before she could think better of it.

Poppy scoffed at Minerva, who rolled her eyes at the mediwitch in reply. The Headmistress turned towards Hermione and explained: “Yes, shopping. I was actually hoping you’d like to accompany me. If I recall correctly, you have an eye for redecorating and we still need some furniture to replace the missing pieces from the guestroom, correct?”

“Well yes, but …”

“Excellent! That’s settled then. I have a few stops to make myself and if there are other things you might need, we can search for those as well.”

In a more hushed tone, Madam Pomfrey asked: "Are you planning on stopping by the Ministry, Minerva?”

“I was actually, yes. Why do you ask?”

With a quick glance at Hermione, the school nurse pulled a piece of parchment from her robes and handed it to Minerva: “I’ve acquired the names of those curse-breakers you’ve been asking about. Unfortunately I don’t have any addresses and the owls I tried to send didn’t know where to go, so maybe someone at the Ministry could help you with that?”

Hermione mouthed a sincere “thank you” at the mediwitch who gave her a covert wink in return. Minerva conveyed her own gratitude aloud before she got up and excused herself. Hermione watched her as she went to speak with professor Flitwick who was seated further down the table.

There was a lingering sense of surprise at the sudden announcement that she would be going shopping with her former professor tomorrow. _Not that it isn’t convenient_ , she thought. _It’s almost as if Minerva somehow knew I was running out of clothes._

Deciding to let it go for now, she finished her dinner. Madam Pince got her to engage in some small-talk about the library and they discussed ways to progress once the Restricted Section was restored.

By seven ‘o clock they had all had their fill and people were filtering out, either for a walk in the late evening sun or to return home for the night. A stroll to the lake seemed like a good idea after spending the day inside, so she made her way over to the doors and took her first steps outside in what felt like days.

Breathing in the fresh air, she felt immediately invigorated, prompting her to start walking at a steady pace. Along her way she noted that the grounds had almost been cleared of any direct signs of the battle’s destruction. Stones from the buildings were piled in organised heaps, ready to be used in a few days’ time when they would start rebuilding the walls and orifices. It felt good to see the castle being restored to it’s former glory. Under Minerva’s guidance, it would become a safe haven for many students once more.

When she arrived at the lake not long after, she was remined of the last time she came here and felt a sudden dash of guilt at how she must’ve worried Minerva who had found her then. _She did say it were the merpeople who had pointed her in the right direction. Maybe I should thank them too?_

She had no idea if she would be able to communicate with them, but she let her hand skim the water’s edge to see if anyone would come up to her. When nothing happened, she just sat down and enjoyed the evening sun that warmed her skin. Her hand was still weaving random patterns in the water but it didn’t frustrate her that the merpeople didn’t show up. _I suppose the professors have different ways to contact them if they needed to speak._ She made a mental note to ask Minerva about it later.

When the sun was beginning it’s descend towards the horizon, Hermione got up and stretched. Despite how the day had started, she felt relaxed now. The walk back to the castle turned into a leisurely stroll and she simply enjoyed the moment of peace.

\---

Back up in her quarters, Minerva was just hopping out of a warm shower when her head spun and she had to grab the door for support. _Maybe Poppy did have a point. I’m not as young as I once was._

When she had regained her balance she looked up at her reflection and sighed. She was still in great shape for a woman in her sixties, but time had infallible ways of catching up to everyone. The crow feet near her eyes had become less prominent over the last few days but some body parts were softer than when she was in her prime. She had kept the toned muscles on her arms and legs though, a remnant from many years spent playing Quidditch.

She was kept from going down melancholy road when she heard a door close and a familiar voice called out: “Minerva? Are you up here?” She started pulling on her nightclothes while she called back: “I’ll be out shortly!”

She made her way over to the bedroom that was now hers again and grabbed her tartan dressing gown in passing. When she entered the living room, she saw Hermione had picked up a book she’d left on the table.

“Make yourself comfortable, lass. No need to keep standing there.”

The young woman’s head shot up at hearing her voice and gave her a sheepish smile before she glanced back at the book. The brunette had the most endearing smile when she commented on the item: “I didn’t peg you for a Shakespeare fan Minerva.”

Minerva tilted her head in confusion to look at the title on the book before she realised where the statement had come from. “Ah! MacBeth. If you read the book, you’ll see it isn’t Shakespeare’s version. This is a more historically based version of Mac Bethad, the Red King of Scotland.”

Looking intrigued, her young houseguest opened the book at a random page, skim reading the paragraphs. “11th century Scotland. This seems like it’s quite detailed.” The young woman looked back up at her and Minerva was momentarily distracted by how the light brought out golden flecks in those hazel eyes. She was pulled back to the current topic when Hermione added: “We all knew you were Scottish, but I never realised you kept to your roots.”

Minerva let her mouth quirk up into a sly grin before she replied: “I’ve never gotten the chance to show you my collection of Scotland’s roots, now did I?” As she said it, she pointed her wand at the wall beside the fireplace.

At her command, the stones there realigned themselves and a hidden compartment became visible. In it was a massive bookcase, stocked to the brim with old, heavy tomes and more recent, smaller books. All held history, folklore and myths, originating from her homeland. She glanced at her treasures briefly before facing the young bookworm again. The girl’s face was priceless.

Minerva couldn’t help but laugh at the sparkling eyes and slightly gaping mouth. “I didn’t think you could still appreciate books after spending the entire afternoon in the library.”

The young woman let her gaze rove over the collection as she answered: “These aren’t attacking me with ink and they are in much better shape.” Minerva saw Hermione blink a few times in rapid succession before she hesitantly added: “These won’t attack me, right?”

Laughing quietly at her former student’s behaviour, Minerva reassuring her. “Don’t worry, they won’t.”

“Can I?”, the younger woman asked with a hopeful smile while indicating the bookcase.

Minerva signalled her permission and watched as Hermione started examining the covers. Minerva herself picked up the now abandoned MacBeth book and curled up in the couch with it. A few moments later she looked up when she felt the couch’s cushions dip and saw Hermione as she had often seen the girl in her schoolyears: nose stuck in a book and oblivious to the world. She smiled and returned her attention to her own readings. Neither one of them moved except for the occasional turning of a page until it was time for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always appreciate a comment ;-)


	7. Out in the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re back for an early update!   
> Since it’s a rather large chapter, I hope you’ll forgive me if the next update takes a bit longer (not too long though, no worries)
> 
> For those of you who are interested in the ‘background’ of this chapter: check out the HP Lexicon. There’s apparently a little more background to Minerva than what we’ve read in the books or seen in the movies and I’ve decided to integrate parts of it.  
> I’ve also based most of this fic on the books, but one little ‘glitch’ from the movies found it’s way into this chapter. There’s been a lot of online speculating about an award plaque for a ‘M.G. McGonagall’, but the timeline didn’t add up for it to be Minerva’s, so I decided to create my own little explanation for it 😉  
> Both things aren’t exactly necessary to read the chapter though, so you can just continue reading the fic without googling these anecdotes. They’re just in here for fun.

“So, where would you like to go first?”, Minerva asked her.

Hermione still had her hand on the other witch’s arm after their apparition had taken them to the little courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron. She gave the offered arm a gentle squeeze before disentangling her fingers and taking out her wand to tap the bricks.

“Maybe the apothecary or a hairdresser to get this pink disaster taken care off first?” Hermione tugged on one of her hairlocks to indicate the issue. She saw Minerva trying and failing to hide a grin as she walked through the stone archway that led to Diagon Alley.

Where they stopped dead in their tracks, stunned by what they saw: There were posters everywhere. Some were Ministry billboards depicting updates like: “You-Know-Who defeated: Reign of terror ends!” and “Kingsley Shacklebolt named interim Minister for Magic” or “Ministry looking for Death Eaters on the run: contact the Auror squad if you have any information regarding these individuals”. What most disturbed her though, was to see numerous of the old “Undesirable no 1” posters of Harry with the “Un” scratched out and hearts drawn around the edges.

Minerva gave her a little nudge and indicated a cluster of posters further down the street. “It seems there are some of you and Mr Weasley too.”

It was a collage of sorts, depicting black and white scenes from after the battle of Hogwarts. She couldn’t remember seeing anyone with a camera but there must’ve been someone for she saw snapshots of her and Ronald looking like hell. They were clearly being depicted as battle heroes, faces tense and still clutching their wands. There were some other familiar faces in the background too, like Minerva, Flitwick, Sprout and the order members, but it was mostly Harry’s, Ron’s and her own face staring back at them. Above the collage hung a banner saying: “The Golden Trio prevails!”

Minerva must’ve noticed her mouthing the words “‘Golden Trio”, for she commented: “I’m afraid that title is going to stick with you three for a while now.”

She gave the older witch an exasperated look at the remark, but was distracted from saying anything when she heard her name being mentioned somewhere. Looking around for the source, she saw a small group of boys a little older than herself whispering to each other while shooting her covert glances. There was no hostility, but the way they were eyeing her, made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Hermione had seen this kind of behaviour in Romilda Vane when she tried to get Harry’s attention in their sixth year and she reminded herself to stay away from all liquids offered by strangers.

Likely sensing her discomfort, Minerva didn’t object when Hermione interlaced their arms again and steered them away from the boys. It was only when they had entered the apothecary and gotten off the street that Hermione felt assured enough to let go of her anchor.

As always when she entered this store, she looked around with wonder at the various items and potions on display. She hoped that feeling of awe that she felt whenever she entered a place so obviously brimming with magic would never go away.

Due to the early hour they were the only customers in the shop and soon a middle-aged witch appeared behind the counter and addressed them: “Ah, Headmistress McGonagall! Are you here to pick up those potion supplies for the school?”

Minerva stepped up to the woman and smiled politely. “Mrs Bobbin, it’s nice to see you doing well, dear. I’m afraid I’m here for personal affairs today though.”

Hermione saw Minerva wave her over to join them and so she did. Mrs Bobbin’s eyes went wide when she recognised her and the woman actually curtsied for her. The gesture was so unexpected that Hermione faltered in her step and almost knocked over a crate containing eels’ eyes. Two hands were suddenly there to steady both herself and the crate before anything could happen. With an embarrassed blush she looked up at Minerva and gave her a quiet “Thank you”, before allowing her to help her stand up straight again.

Mrs Bobbin had watched the near tumble with fearful eyes and now exclaimed: “Dear me! Are you alright Miss Granger? Let me put that crate in a less invasive spot right away!”

Hermione looked over at the woman, very much confused at the reaction. The crate wasn’t in the way at all, she had just been clumsy enough to hit it. When the shop owner seemed a little skittish about coming near her, realisation started to dawn.

Mrs Bobbin probably expected Harry Potter’s best friend to want to be treated with respect and therefore was treating her the way she probably must’ve treated a Death Eater a week ago. By grovelling. _No, that I simply won’t allow. We didn’t just fight this blasted war to become the new supremacists! Enough with this social inequity already!_

“Mrs Bobbin please, you don’t have to do that. It was my own stupidity that almost ruined your stock, I should be apologising to you.”

The woman seemed surprised but was still hesitant about how to reply to her. Minerva came to the rescue with a few nicely chosen words: “I think what Miss Granger here is trying to say, is that you can feel free to scold her like you would any other customer who almost scattered the contents of that crate.”

The shop owner gave Minerva a scandalised look at what she had implied, but once she noticed Hermione nodding her head in sincere consent, she relented: “Well, seeing as nothing happened, I don’t think a scolding will be necessary.”

Hermione gave the woman a sheepish grin in response and with newfound enthusiasm Mrs Bobbin asked what she could help them with. Hermione indicated her pink hair and briefly explained how she had gotten the colour off her skin but not her hair.

“Ah yes, I see. Some of those old books have been imbibed with unerasable ink.” Hermione’s head shot up in alarm at hearing that, but the woman waved away her concerns: “Nothing to worry about Miss Granger. If the soap you used has gotten it off your skin, then we’ll just have to strengthen it’s efficiency and your lovely hair will be good as new in no time! Now, tell me about the soap. What kind of ingredients did it contain?”

Hermione actually had no idea and was about to say as much when Minerva cleared her throat and answered: “I’m guessing it must’ve been that sandalwood and Mandrake-root soap bar you used to sell here a while back.” With a glance at Hermione, she verified: “Did you use that orange soap bar that was on the top shelf?”

Hermione nodded and almost blushed when Mrs Bobbin looked curiously from Minerva to her and back again. Realising how the part where they share a shower could be interpreted, she was quick to offer an explanation: “Professor McGonagall is letting me stay in her guestroom so I have easier access to the school. I’m volunteering with the reconstruction, you see.”

Now the shop owner herself was blushing as she realised she had almost come to the wrong conclusion about her two customers: “Yes of course! That explains why you would have the Headmistress’ soap at your disposal! It’s a fortunate coincidence that it’s one of my homemade items, I know just which elixir to add. Hang on a moment, I’ll just go find it and then you should be all set!”

Five minutes later they were standing outside the apothecary with a red elixir for which Mrs Bobbin insisted she didn’t have to pay. Hermione was still feeling a little confused over the weirdness of the encounter, but Minerva offered her an explanation for it: “You’re a person of interest to our community now. People know that it was Mr Potter, Mr Weasley and yourself who saved them from that madman. Mr Potter was already well known for surviving the killing curse, but after what you’ve accomplished now, you’re all going to be famous. Whether you like it or not, they’ll want to know everything about you from now on. It’s a lucky coincidence that you’ve learned how to handle the media nowadays.” The last words were accentuated by a wink and Hermione suddenly felt very self-aware, knowing her professor must’ve picked up on her little impromptu interview the other day.

She was about to ask her if the other woman had any suggestions on how to prevent these thing from happening in the future when she saw Minerva narrow her eyes slightly. “When you speak of the devil…”

Hermione followed her line of sight and cursed. “You see it’s ugly tail…”

There were a couple of men looking at them excitedly, camera’s at the ready.

“Minerva? Do you have anything you need from Diagon Alley that can’t be procured somewhere else?”

Catching on to her reluctance to have reporters trailing them while they did their shopping, Minerva was quick to reply: “I believe I might know a less public place to continue our shopping trip, if you so wish?”

Hermione immediately grabbed the other witch’s arm and answered with an eager “Lead the way please”. She felt Minerva turn on the spot as she apparated them to somewhere the paparazzi hopefully wouldn’t follow.   
  


When they reappeared, they were standing in what seemed to be a woodworker’s shop, judging by the wood shavings and metal tools covering all surfaces. Before Hermione could ask where Minerva had taken them, she heard a loud thud followed by a deep male voice cursing.

Suddenly a door opened and a man looking to be in his early forties came in, wand raised and trained on them. He had a neatly trimmed but very thick black beard, bright green eyes and he wore simple Muggle clothes that were covered in saw dust.

Minerva quickly stepped between her and the unknown wizard and held up her hands to signal they meant no harm. The man didn’t lower his wand, but a smile appeared when he spoke: “Bless me beard, I sure hope it’s really you.”

Minerva had her back turned towards her, so Hermione couldn’t see her face but thought she must be smiling, because she heard a gentle laugh in the Headmistress’ voice when she replied. “Ask your question and then you’ll be certain of my identity.”

_They must know each other well_ , Hermione noted with some curiosity, since safety questions were generally only used between friends and family.

“How’d yeh get tha’ scar on yer left shoulder?”

“Quidditch injury, sustained in a school match against Slytherin. It’s on my right shoulder though.” Hermione could see the man lowering his wand, but Minerva had hers out now. Even if it wasn’t pointed at the man, Hermione felt the tension radiating from the older witch when she asked: “How do you know about the scar?”

The man got a boyish grin and he let out a booming laugh before answering her. “Cause I crashed righ’ into it when I was still a wee lad! Almost knocked yeh out when yeh were tryin’ to teach me how to ride me broom prop’rly. Me dad had to fix yeh up again an’ gave me a right fat scoldin’!”

Minerva’s wand disappeared up her sleeve again and her tone was filled with warmth when she greeted him properly: “Hello Max, it’s good to see you again. Next time don’t startle me with those trick questions, would yeh?”

Hermione noticed the woman’s Scottish accent was becoming more pronounced but that’s not what made her head spin. _Who was this man that Minerva greeted with such affection? Where they friends? Lovers?!_

As if he’d been waiting for her to give the go, the wizard stepped forward and enveloped Minerva into a tight hug. “Aye, I’ll do me best, but yeh had me worried there when we heard ‘bout the battle. No owl! No call! Not even a floo note tellin’ me yeh were fine! I swear auntie, yeh’re still tryin’ to get back at me for stealin’ yer wand all them years ago!”

_Auntie? What?_ Hermione took a closer look at the man and suddenly she could see the family resemblance. She watched the interaction with interest and smiled when she heard Minerva laugh with abandon. _I’d have her laugh like that more if I could_ , she thought to herself.

Her musings were interrupted when Minerva turned to introduce them: “Max, I’d like you to meet Hermione Granger. Hermione, meet Maxwell Gawen McGonagall, my nephew.”

Hermione extended her hand and politely said: “Pleased to meet you Mr McGonagall.”

Maxwell looked at his aunt and then at her extended hand and raised his eyebrow.

_Yes, I definitely see the family resemblance now_ , Hermione had time to note, before he stepped up to her and gave her an unexpected hug as well.

“Yeh’re not in England anymo’ lass. Here’n Caithness, we’re greetin’ the people decen’ly!” Despite his rough words, he physically was quite gentle with her and she couldn’t help but return his smile when he let go.

She looked over at Minerva who also had a smile on her face and asked: “We’re in Caithness then? That’s up north in the highlands, right?”

The older woman nodded at her question but Max gave them both a once over before he replied: “Aye, yeh’re ‘bout as far up north as yeh can go. Welcome to Wick an’ welcome to me shop! Yeh’re stayin’ fer tea, righ’?”

The question came a bit out of the blue, so Minerva looked over at her with a questioningly raised eyebrow. She gladly nodded her consent and Max waved for them to follow him. _More time to hear family stories about her favourite teacher? Of course they were staying! But… why were they here?_ That question was readily answered when they entered the actual customer part of the shop. It was neatly organised and stocked with a wide array of furniture. Beds made out of oak, dressing tables in fir and pine, chairs, desks, it was all there. Each piece seemed to be handmade and the details on it were intricately crafted. Hermione gave the shop an appreciative glace and her eyes came to rest on a small wardrobe and dresser set.

Max must have noticed her staring because he pointed a thumb at her from over his shoulder and asked his aunt: “Does the lass know ‘bout me work?”

Minerva glanced over at her with a conspiratorial grin and answered: “Nay, I brought yeh a newbie. An’ we’re in tha market fer someth’n nice. Put on a wee bit o’ a show, would yeh?”

Hermione could hardly catch Minerva’s words now that she’d suddenly turned to her birth dialect again. _My old classmates would pay real galleons to be in my shoes right now_ , she thought exitedly. _Harry and Ron might not even believe me if I told them Minerva is actually a real born and raised Scottish woman. Or that she has a nephew, for that matter._

Her surprised thoughts were interrupted when Max pulled out his wand and waved it into a complex charms pattern. The blinds on the store window shut themselves as a little sign on the door flipped to ‘closed’. Minerva took a step closer and put a hand reassuringly on her shoulder. She looked up at the woman with what she knew to be confused expression. Minerva still had that cute grin of her face and Hermione felt her face soften. _Wait. Cute? What?_

She didn’t have time to analyse her mind’s musings because suddenly the lights went out. _Is this supposed to happen?_ She was about to ask Minerva as much, but was halted by a gentle squeeze. So she waited and looked around in the darkened room.

Slowly a soft blue glow started shining further down the back. And then a green one closer by. It wasn’t until red and yellow lights had also appeared that Hermione realised where the lights came from and she gasped in wonder. They came from the wooden objects themselves. In the dim light, she saw Max wave his wand around in an arch above his head and then suddenly every piece of craftmanship in his shop added it’s own colour to the display. Tiny dots, the size of a pinprick accentuated the carvings and made it appear as though they were moving. It was absolutely beautiful. The overall effect from where they were standing reminded Hermione of pictures of the galaxy she had seen as a child.

She continued to gaze around in awe for a few more minutes until Max broke the silence. “Low’r yer eyes lass, I’ll be puttin’ tha lights back on.” And so he did, gradually, to allow their eyes to get used to the normal lights again.

She stepped closer to the dresser that had caught her eye earlier to inspect it. “That was really beautiful Mr McGonagall, thank you for showing it to me.”

He thanked her for the compliment and then turned Minerva. “Wha’d yeh say we let the lass browse fo’ a wee bit an’ we put tha kettle on?”

Hermione was only too eager to further explore so she indicated that it was fine by her. She waved them on and watched the two McGonagalls disappear through a nearby door. She was glad Minerva had brought her here and also convinced that one or two of these lovely pieces were coming home with them. Now she only needed to decide which ones…

\---

Minerva followed her nephew through a narrow hallway that led into the kitchen. For a man living alone, she could still only describe it as “cozy” and much cleaner than what you’d expect from a bachelor. She saw Max picking up an old-fashioned cast iron kettle and filling it to the brim with water before placing it the stove.

He was about to bend over to pick up some logs for the fire, but she beat him to it. With a flick of her wand, she transfigured the logs so they had spindly legs and they started marching towards the stove’s open door, jumping in happily.

His booming laugh at her display made her smile too, both remembering when she used to do that to trick his father when Maxwell was younger. _You’re still sorely missed, Malcolm, but you raised a decent lad and you would’ve been proud of him_ , she thought about her brother with warmth and an aching she knew would never go away.

Looking up at her nephew, she knew he was remembering him too and they shared a sad smile at the loss of a loved one. They both knew it wouldn’t do to dwell on the past, so they each took a chair and sat themselves down at the table to catch up. When the kettle started to whistle and Max had summoned it along with three mugs, he asked her why she was really here.

“Can’t I just visit and bring you a new customer?”

He grinned at her reply and raised an eyebrow in amusement. The gesture made her chuckle for she’d seen it many times on her mother and two brothers and knew it was a family trademark.

Max was still patiently waiting for her real answer, so she glanced at the hallway that led back to the shop to check if Hermione was still busy there. The young witch did appear to be taking her time, so she pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to Maxwell. He took it and stowed it into the back pocket of his jeans, but just kept waiting for an explanation.

“I could use your help with finding the people whose names I put on there.”

He pushed the parchment a little deeper into his pocket before asking: “Muggleborns tha’ went inta hidin’?”

Minerva shook her head. “No, Muggles. Dentists if I recall correctly.” His eyes betrayed his surprise, so with another quick glance to check if their conversation was still private, she added: “The girl’s parents. I’m not entirely sure how, but I think she gave them false names and had them leave the country.”

He gave her a smile of understanding and commented: “Smart lass.”

That made her chuckle again. “Oh Max, you have no idea.”

He was looking at her closely now, studying her. “Why her?”, he asked.

His question confused her so she replied: “Excuse me?”

Maxwell had gotten a strange look, but the rest of his features showed her nothing of what he was thinking. “Fo’ as long as I’ve known yeh, yeh’ve been a teacher at tha school. In all tho’ years I’ve only ev’r met Albus an’ tha’ little fellow, wha’s his name, Flitwick? Nev’r brought back a stud’nt befo’… So why her?”

_Why indeed? I don’t really know do I? I’ve never really felt comfortable enough around anyone else to introduce them to Max before…_ She said as much to him and it made his inquisitive gaze intensify.

She stared back at him until he averted his eyes and started pouring them tea. _Why indeed… This strange friendship that’s been blossoming between us has made many eyebrows raise already. Maybe I should reconsider?_ But then she remembered the previous night reading books together and the mornings spent laughing at each other’s antics and she knew she wanted to hold on to the young woman’s company. For as long as they both felt good doing so, at least.

Maxwell cleared his throat to get her attention again and her head snapped up in time to see Hermione entering the room with a gleeful smile. She felt her own lips quirk up to return hers and for the first time she was aware of doing so. _Ah. Now I see what Poppy was talking about. And probably why Maxwell kept staring at me so funnily. Merlin knows I’ve not always been quick to laugh, but with her it somehow… It’s different. Hmm…_

Max invited Hermione to join them and the next hour was enjoyed talking about Hogwarts. Minerva actually had to silence her nephew with a _Langlock_ spell that glued his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He shouldn’t be telling Hermione about the time Minerva had lost her temper with the erstwhile Quidditch captain and took the boy’s broom to demonstrate how to adequately curve-throw a Quaffle! It wasn’t her fault the Gryffindor team at that time was about as bad as it could get. They could use all the help they could get and Minerva had always been very passionate about the sport and her House’s team. Maxwell had reversed the tongue-tying spell within seconds, but it left Hermione laughing so hard the woman had to clutch her now sore stomach.

Eventually they had to wrap things up and she followed her young companion back into the store to see which items she had picked out. Minerva paid her nephew double the original cost on the condition he would have them delivered at the castle within the week. He gave her a grateful smile for the extra money and a warm hug in farewell. Hermione was grinning when Max gave her one too and they said their goodbyes as well.

  
When they stepped out into the Muggle street his shop gave out on, the young woman interlaced their arms again and they took off towards a nearby shopping centre. Minerva had transformed her clothes into appropriate Muggle attire before they left Maxwell’s shop but she still didn’t feel entirely comfortable in hip-hugging jeans and a loose burgundy blouse. She had however noticed the appreciative glance her new clothes had gotten from Hermione, so she decided to just get over it.

As they entered a large building that housed several smaller shops, her young companion must’ve noticed how out of place she felt, because she shot her a reassuring smile and said: “Don’t worry, this won’t take long. Why don’t you take a look around to see if there’s anything that catches your eye and we’ll meet back here in twenty minutes?”

Minerva let go of the young witch, even though she was a little reluctant to let her out of her sight. But the war was over and they were in a small town’s shopping mall in the Muggle world, so she really had no excuses. She watched as Hermione disappeared into something called an ‘outlet store’ and started looking around for something to occupy herself with.

A petite stall caught her eye and to her delight the friendly woman manning the counter offered her some samples of chocolate treats. She ended up buying two boxes of the little delicacies and before she could decide where to go next, a familiar figure was already walking up to her.

Hermione was carrying a large paper bag and when she peeked inside she saw several items of clothing. The young woman simply shrugged at her baffled look and said: “I told you it wouldn’t take long. I knew what I needed and I managed to get it at a cheap price too. Is there anything else you need, or shall we get out of here?”

Minerva followed her outside, still trying to figure out how she had gotten lucky enough to befriend a young woman who could shop in under twenty minutes. _I’m starting to see why she didn’t really bond with her female classmates…_

Once outside, Minerva guided them to a nearby alley that seemed deserted enough to apparate without being seen by the passing Muggles. She extended her arm towards the young witch who took the offered limb without hesitation and with a soft ‘pop’ they were gone.

\---

They reappeared in the Leaky Cauldron’s courtyard again and for a moment Hermione thought she was having a déjà vu. After a disorienting moment, she felt Minerva steer them away from the brick wall that had taken them to Diagon Alley earlier and they entered the wizarding pub instead.

Tom the barman greeted them with enthusiasm and simply waved them on with a smile when Minerva gestured towards his fireplace. The pub wasn’t that crowded, but people had started to turn their heads to stare at them and Hermione felt uncomfortable and a little self-conscious in her threadbare Muggle clothes and pink hair. It did help that some of the older witches and wizards seemed to be gawking at Minerva. It wasn’t every day of course that one saw the respectable, new-appointed Headmistress of Hogwarts in Muggle attire.

Hermione quickly followed to keep up with Minerva who seemed oblivious to the staring. She had already grabbed a pinch of floo powder and pronounced “Ministry of Magic”, before stepping into green flames. Hermione followed her example and seconds later she hopped out of another fireplace and entered the Ministry’s entrance hall.

The first thing she noticed was the fountain, or lack thereof. When she was last here, there stood a statue of wizards placed above Muggles with the dooming “Magic is Might” written to it. Now it was simply an empty space. The large basin was still filled with water and she was glad to see a lot of knuts, sickles and galleons in there that would go to St Mungo’s. The hospital could probably make good use of the money after treating so many injured form the battle.

Ministry workers were dashing to and from the fireplaces and those who noticed them only gave a polite nod without breaking their stride. She turned to Minerva again, who had just finished transforming her clothes into witches robes again. The older witch looked at her questioningly, wand held up to offer her a quick clothing transformation as well.

With a mischievous grin Hermione stepped closer to her travel companion and said: “Thank you, but I’ll manage. I’ve been taught by the best, you know.” Adding a little wink that made her professor blush slightly at the playful compliment, she took out her own wand. She quickly transfigured her clothes into an outfit that was somewhere between traditional robes and a dress.

Looking back up at the older witch, she saw the appreciative smile over her spellwork and Hermione couldn’t help but grin. She placed her hand in the crook of Minerva’s arm again as the Hogwarts Headmistress steered them towards the wand-checkpoint and over to the elevators in the Atrium after that.

Inter-department memos were zooming around the elevator’s ceiling and the majority of the little planes preceded them out when a voice announced: “Department of Magical Law Enforcement”.

“Where exactly are we going Minerva?”

The transfiguration mistress was leading her through a maze of interlocking hallways, not once doubting at the intersections. “To meet with an old friend of mine who might be able to help with locating those curse-breakers.”

Hermione had been wondering about why Poppy hadn’t been able to send an owl, since the magically bred birds were usually able to find anyone just by the name of the addressee.

When she asked Minerva as much, the tall witch replied: “There could be a number of reasons really. One would be that we don’t know if the person survived the war. Qualified curse-breakers who weren’t on his side, would have been targeted by Voldemort’s forces.” Minerva must’ve seen her face fall at hearing this, for she squeezed the hand that was still holding on to her arm in reassurance and continued: “Don’t despair yet lass, that’s what we’re here to find out. Poppy found you multiple names, anticipating exactly this. There could be other reasons as well for why the owls couldn’t locate them. They could’ve used a Fidelius charm, fled the country or they’re still in hiding. If they’re alive, I’m certain we can find them, given enough time. And on that note we’ve reached our first hurdle.”

They had reached a plain white door that held a plaque notifying them they had reached the “Register of Birth-, Death- and Marriage-certificates”. Hermione was forced to let go of the other woman’s arm because of the narrow doorway and she felt a pang of sadness after the loss of contact. _It seems I’m becoming quite attached to her_ , Hermione noted with some mild surprise. She had always been proud of her independence but somehow relying on her mentor didn’t feel like giving up her autonomy. _Getting rid of the curse and hopefully the scar along with it, is something that has my guts twisted into a knot. It’s perfectly normal to want a friend with me for this, right?_

Looking to Minerva’s back as the woman entered the small office, Hermione felt a small smile lift up the corners of her lips. They were becoming friends. However surreal it might seem, but she was growing closer to the formidable witch that had been a role model for her during her schoolyears. And if it was up to her, they would grow closer still. Minerva had proven to have both a calming and uplifting effect on her and today the older witch was even giving Hermione a glimpse of her private life. She felt honoured and not a little exited at the same time.

She was called back to the task at hand when she heard Minerva speak: “Sagitta, after four decades I thought you would know that the middle cabinet requires a hearty thump on the top to open up.”

_Huh? What was she talking about?_ Curiously, Hermione stepped around Minerva to take a look at what was going on. She had to suppress a giggle when she spotted a grey-haired witch who had frozen mid-motion at hearing Minerva’s words. The witch had both hands on the handle of a long cabinet and one feet planted against it for leverage as she was attempting to pull the drawer open.

The small, plump woman was blinking up at Minerva like a deer caught in the headlights but a wide smile was spreading over her features when she apparently recognized her visitor. “Minerva! I was hoping you might drop by! And a most opportune moment you’ve chosen to do so, I might add. Give me hand with this blasted thing, will you?”

Hermione observed with mild fascination as the elderly witch made room for Minerva at the uncooperative drawer. Her jaw dropped when Minerva strode up to the thing and, in an impressive display of controlled violence, whacked the cabinet on the top with the side of her fist. The drawer that had withstood the elderly witch’s attempts, popped open without a further hitch.

The smaller woman playfully shooed Minerva out of the way again an turned a latch that would prevent the drawer from fully closing in the future while saying: “You’re a lifesaver Minerva, thanks for this! I usually keep it open at all times, but it’s my first day back in the office since the war started and my predecessor must’ve unknowingly closed it. Now I come to think of it, I doubt that he or she would’ve been able to open it either. This bloody thing always refused to open for any other than you or Elphinstone.”

If Hermione hadn’t been watching closely, she would’ve missed the sombre expression on Minerva’s face upon hearing that name. As it was, the sadness was gone in an instant and Minerva was smiling at the shorter woman and saying it wasn’t any trouble. Hermione barely had time to file away the name and Minerva’s reaction to it, when the unknown witch noticed her standing in the doorway and Minerva introduced them.

“Sagitta, I’d like you to meet Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Sagitta Urquart, my former colleague and dear friend.”

Sagitta raised her eyebrows at Minerva’s introduction as if checking for something. After a few moments of silent glances between the two older witches Minerva sighed and added: “Sagitta is also the sister of my late husband.”

Hermione could only blink for a few moments after this startling revelation. _Minerva had been married?! How had she not known this?!_ Upon seeing the sad look exchanged between both witches, Hermione forcibly shoved any shock deep down and placed a hand gently on Minerva’s upper arm in silent support.

“I’m sorry for your loss Minerva.” With a glance at the other witch, she added: “For both your losses.”

Both women gave her a little smile in thanks and after a few more seconds it was Minerva who replied: “Thank you lass, but it was a long time ago. We’ll be alright.”

The Headmistress patted the smaller hand on her biceps before taking a deep breath and her no-nonsense persona took over again. Addressing her former sister-in-law, she asked: “Miss Granger and I would appreciate your help in tracking down a few people whose services we require. We’ve been unable to contact them thus far, so I was hoping you could help us?”

Sagitta Urquart gave her a curious look, but apparently decided she didn’t need any more information than that. She held out her hand and asked for the names of the people they were looking for. Minerva handed her the piece of paper and they watched in silence as the elderly witch flicked her wand and some huge registry books appeared out of nowhere. She cross-referenced the names with entries in the “deceased” registry and added little crosses to the first three names she was able to find. The fourth name on their list was fortunately not in the register, but the fifth and sixth were. Sagitta closed the death certificate registries and turned to retrieve another large book.

While the small witch worked, Hermione looked up at her former Head of House and asked hesitantly: “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to of course, but are sure you’re alright?”

The smile Minerva gave her in response was more genuine this time, along with her reply: “Yes I’m sure, but thank you for asking. Like I said, it’s been many years since he passed and both Sagitta and I have had time to mourn him. He was a good man and we’ll always miss him, but he would’ve wanted us to move on and so we did.”

Hermione had locked gazes with the emerald-eyed witch while she spoke. She smiled reassuringly at the honest vulnerability she saw and reached out to squeeze Minerva’s hand again. They must’ve been standing there for a while, just looking at each other and feeling their connection strengthen. Hermione felt honoured to be let in on the older woman’s past and she swore she would never betray the trust the Minerva had bestowed upon her in doing so. They were still quietly observing each other when Sagitta cleared her throat to get their attention again.

The grey-haired witch had a little knowing smirk on her face when she looked between her two visitors. Hermione felt a blush heat her cheeks at the look they were receiving, but didn’t really know why she was feeling as though they’d been caught. In her confusion, she let go of Minerva’s hand and looked around to focus on something else.

Her gaze settled on the list of names that Sagitta handed over to her. All except one were indicated as having died in the war, but the one remaining name now had a marriage date and location written next to it. Looking up to see Minerva had read the addition as well, her mentor explained: “Most couples reside in the town of their marriage. It’s a good place to start looking for this… What was the name? Pictor Craggs? Even if he and his wife had a Fidelius charm placed on their residence, there will be others in town who know them and might be willing to relay a message to him.”

Hermione nodded her consent in the reasoning and politely expressed her gratitude to Miss Urquart for giving them the information. Sagitta merely waved her hand to indicate it’s wasn’t a problem but the elderly woman was still looking at her funnily. Hermione got the impression as though she was being appraised, but for what she couldn’t say. She was about to ask if something was wrong, when the grey-haired witch addressed Minerva: “I’m assuming you must be on your way soon, but I was hoping we could have a quick word?”

Minerva looked a bit surprised at first, but she quickly asked Hermione if that was alright with her. Hermione swiftly caught on and after thanking Sagitta once more, she walked back into the hallway to leave the other women to their privacy. Even though she had closed the door on her way out, she could still hear their muffled voices.

She really did try to filter them out, but curiosity got the better of her when she heard Sagitta’s voice say: “Elphinstone really would’ve wanted you to move on, you know.”

She couldn’t hear Minerva’s entire response but she could piece it together enough to make out: “I know Gitta … where is this suddenly coming from? … responsibilities as Headmistress and … not like I have time or even an interest in ….”

Sagitta’s voice was again easier to catch: “… not telling you to start actively looking for love … asking you to be open to it if someone comes along.”

Hermione must’ve missed something due to her not being present in the office, because she was fairly confused about the sudden hostility in Minerva’s voice when she heard the last words of her heated reply: “… lost your mind?!”

Sagitta’s voice remained as calm as before. She was apparently not impressed by Minerva’s outburst: “… quite the gap between you and Elph as well … if it hadn’t been for that Venomous Tentacula, you both would still be happy together!”

Hermione wasn’t able to eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation, because further down the hallway the notable figure of Kingsley Shacklebolt had appeared and he was waving her over. Hermione cursed under her breath but didn’t want to be caught by Minerva as well, so she trudged up to him.

Some random Ministry worker had started talking to the new Minister in the meantime, so she kept a respectful distance and waited patiently, her mind whirling over the things she’d just heard. _What exactly had that been about…?_

\---

Minerva was fuming over the audacity of her former sister-in-law when she growled: “I know there was an age gap between me and your brother, but how can you imply something like that? She is barely off age! I don’t know what you think you saw between us, but I can guarantee you that there’s only friendship! And even that is a such a recent development that I’m almost reluctant to call it that.”

Minerva felt a bit lost in the maelstrom of feelings that were threatening to overwhelm her. _What was up with her family and friends that they were reading more into her affiliation with the girl than there actually was to it? She could feel their newfound friendship blossoming, sure, but did they really have to blow it out of proportion like this? Thank Godric that Hermione wasn’t hearing this, or she might even decide that continuing said friendship wasn’t worth such accusations. She could lose the young woman over something like that, even if it was only an outsider implying something … more. No, that she really couldn’t allow. If the lass wanted to end their friendship in the future, she wouldn’t stop her. But she wasn’t going to stand for something so far-fetched as a romantical involvement to get in between them either._

Minerva drew herself to her full imposing height before adding: “Sagitta, you know I usually value your opinion, but this is where I’m putting my foot down. I’ll owl you in a few weeks to meet up again over tea but I advise you not to breach this subject ever again. You’re out of line.”

Sagitta was studying her intently while she said this and remained quiet for a long moment after her dismissal. Minerva sighed in relief when it appeared she was finally able to put a stop this nonsense. Only to have her hackles up again when she saw the other woman smirk.

“Suit yourself Minerva. If you don’t want to talk about that gorgeous woman who was looking at you so sweetly, then fine, we won’t.” Minerva was bristling at the wording, but before she could lash out again, Sagitta continued: “And you’re right, maybe I was out of line.”

Minerva slowly calmed down again after that, but there was something in the other woman’s gaze that kept her on edge. Sagitta smirked at her again and turned around to walk away, waving her hand in goodbye. Minerva almost felt guilty over how she had spoken to her long-time friend. The retreating woman had one last comment to add though: “I mean, it’s not like you’re attracted to women, are you?” With those last words she was gone, disappearing through a backdoor and leaving Minerva staring after her in shock.

_Did she just…? But she couldn’t possibly …! How…?_ Minerva had to grab on to the doorframe for balance because those last words left her staggering. It was true that she might’ve had a passing romantical thought over other women during the many lonely years after Elphinstone’s demise, but she had only acted on those impulses on a rare few occasions! Unfortunately no actual relationships had come from any of them, so how could Sagitta of all people have known to make a comment like that? For Minerva had no doubt about it that the older woman’s last words were intentionally meant to make a point. She could be attracted to women. And she would never deny that Hermione was a gorgeous woman. Minerva had to actively shake her head from going further down that reasoning. Hermione was too young, too smart and most of all too straight for her mind to even go there. Hadn’t she recently spoken to Filius about Hermione’s and Mr Weasley’s chances of a relationship? No, there wasn’t a chance that the young witch would ever hold an interest in her, so she wouldn’t torture herself by even thinking about the possibility. _Damn you, Sagitta. You’re making my mind spin around in circles with that last comment and I know it’s exactly what you intended to do!_ She actually growled in frustration and decided to just get out of there before the older witch could return and make it even worse.

  
Upon entering the hallway, she looked around for her young companion and spotted her talking to the Minster of all people. As she was approaching them, she saw Kingsley notice her and he extended his hand in a polite greeting.

“Good afternoon Headmistress. Good to see you again, as always. I was just telling Miss Granger I have some time to show her the training rooms if you two aren’t in a hurry?”

Her eyes narrowed at his jovial tone and she asked: “Now why would you be showing her the training rooms, if I might ask?”

She noticed he was suddenly avoiding eye-contact and was about to call him on his evasiveness, when Hermione interrupted and explained: “Because starting tomorrow, Harry, Ron and myself will begin our training to assist the Aurors when they’re going after the remaining Death Eaters.”

_You are WHAT?! Haven’t you three endured enough already?! Whoever came up with that outrageous idea?_ Minerva’s eyes snapped back to Kingsley, accusation plain for all to see.

Her voice was trembling with barely controlled anger when she addressed the former Auror: “You had no right Kinsley, no right at all to ask this of them! They’ve done more than their fair share already and then some. And now you want to send them after criminals who will do literally anything to stay out of Azkaban? Do you **want** to get them killed?!”

Again Kingsley was saved by Hermione, who this time placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Minerva.”

She sighed and turned to look at the young witch again, who seemed to be amused by her sudden temper.

“Hermione… Might I ask why you would want to do this? I was under the impression that your post-graduating ambitions didn’t lie in law enforcement.”

The brunette simply smiled at her question and Minerva was grateful she had been able to reel in her anger before addressing the woman. With a sigh, Hermione explained her reasoning: “Because before I can do any of the things I originally wanted to do, I need our world to be safe. Therefore I need to be sure the Death Eaters are all behind bars. Don’t blame Kingsley for my decision. He was very adamant that it was an offer only and that we had a choice. Oh and by the way, once most of the criminals are locked up, I wanted to talk to you about actually getting to the ‘post-graduate’ part. I never got the chance to sit for my N.E.W.T.s and I do intend to gain a few of those.”

Minerva saw the covert wink that was directed at her over the last bits and she couldn’t help but chuckle _. ‘A few N.E.W.T.s’ she says now, but if she’s still partially the girl I’ve known for six years, she’ll probably try to gain Outstandings in all of them._ Minerva also knew the part about the N.E.W.T.s was a way to distract her, but she wasn’t about to let Kingsley off the hook so easily.

The new Minster was observing them with interest and when she levelled him under her stare again, he was quick to jump on the less dangerous topic: “We’re arranging to have the N.E.W.T. exams proceed somewhere in July or August. Depending on the state of Hogwarts Castle, we’ll hold them either there or somewhere in the Ministry.” Turning his head towards Hermione, he continued: “You might be able to study for some of those already and take the rest next year. I’m certain we’ll have apprehended the remaining Death Eaters by then.”

Minerva knew he was trying to appease her, but she was still frustrated after her conversation with Sagitta and the new Minister was providing her with an easy target. “I’m quite certain that Miss Granger would be able to pull off combining Auror training with studying for her N.E.W.T.s, even if both are amongst the heaviest course loads our society has to offer.”

Kingsley at least had the decency to look horrified at her conclusion, but Hermione’s answering smirk told her the girl knew she was having a go at him. She gave the girl a covert wink and proceeded to vent her frustrations on the sputtering new Minister: “Pray tell, who will be training our three invaluable young heroes? You did want to prepare them for the field and make sure they have the best chances at survival, no?”

Nodding vigorously, he replied: “Their initial trainer will be Devon Goodwill. Once he clears them, they will train with the others and in a few weeks they should be able to help the squadrons in the field.”

_Goodwill?! That burly oaf?! I still don’t understand how he ever managed to get all the required N.E.W.T.s! Though he does have a good heart, I’ll give him that at least. Oh Kingsley, you’re making this way too easy…_ Minerva let a devious smile take over her features and she marvelled at the effect it had on Kinsley Shacklebolt. _One of the few advantages of being Headmistress is that I can make the Minister sweat without consequences._ She continued her verbal assault on the tall man who was, quite admirably, still standing up straight.

“Yes Goodwill has been with the force for quite some time now. I imagine you won’t object if I verify their trainer’s … skills? You can imagine that I’m very… adamant… about making sure they’re getting the best training possible.”

She saw Kingsley’s adam’s apple move when he gulped, but he gave her a firm nod and asked them to follow him.

Hermione walked up beside her and gave her a worried look, before leaning in and asking: “I’m sure I’m missing something here that you’ll tell me later on, but are you feeling alright Minerva? I’m starting to get a bit worried. Though I must add that it was quite exciting to see you backing the Minster of Magic into a corner like that.”

Minerva curiously looked down at the young woman after that admission. She noted the slight blush on the smiling cheeks and grinned at what appeared to be a compliment. Leaning towards the smaller woman, she replied: “I’m fine, but I could use a little outlet for some leftover frustration and I do want to make sure Goodwill is good enough for training you.”

Before the young witch could respond, Kingsley announced their arrival and they entered the Aurors’ training room.

\---

To say that Hermione was shocked, would be an understatement. She’d always known that Minerva was a dangerous witch to oppose, but what she had seen the previous twenty minutes or so simply baffled her. During the battle of Hogwarts, she had seen her former professor taking on Voldemort himself while simultaneously deflecting curses to protect nearby students, but at the time she hadn’t appreciated the sheer power and skills that required.

They had entered the training hall and the Headmistress had politely challenged Auror Goodwill to a duel. Not two minutes later the poor man was stuck to the ceiling, held by the transfigured light fixture while Minerva was playfully twirling his wand and looking up at him with a smirk.

Kingsley had been a bit embarrassed by his former colleague’s lack of skill, so he had asked four more Aurors to come in and have a go against her. They hadn’t done any better. One had ended up stupefied, another had been turned into a kitten and the third was still sprouting tentacles that had wrapped themselves around the body they had grown from. All had lost their wands within two to four minutes.

On top of that Minerva was barely breathing any heavier after taking down the four Aurors in quick succession. If Hermione didn’t know any better, she would say Minerva looked like… She looked like she was having fun to be honest. She was playfully eyeing Kingsley now, who had gotten over his initial embarrassment and now laughed at her unspoken challenge. Apparently the former Auror in him couldn’t resist the friendly confrontation because he took off his outer robes and met the older witch in the middle of the room.

Other Aurors had come in to watch and were talking to each other excitedly at seeing both Order members face off. Kingsley was lighter on his feet than the previous challengers and he was able to sidestep the spells he couldn’t counter. He even managed to get Minerva on the defence for a while but she simply upped the speed and soon they were both sweating and panting, neither one relenting in their assault and defence. Kingsley eventually resorted to blowing up the floor under Minerva’s feet and Hermione’s heart dropped when she saw the tall woman being catapulted backwards by the blast.

She was already rising to run to Minerva’s aid, when the older witch transformed mid-air. The small tabby cat landed gracefully on it’s feet and sprinted out of the way of Kingsley’s next barrage of spells. The feline took cover behind the rubble that was now on the floor and the moment Kingsley halted his assault, she transformed back into her tall self. They both had their wands trained on the other, chests heaving, but not casting.

Hermione noticed the glow in Minerva’s green eyes before a wide smile broke out on the witch’s face. Kingsley had started grinning as well and by some unspoken command, both combatants lowered their wands.

A loud cheer and a round of applause broke out from the gathered Aurors and it took Hermione a moment to realise Minerva and Kingsley had decided on a tie. She saw them walking towards each other and exchange a few whispered words. After a few more seconds of quietly observing the Headmistress, Kingsley ordered most of the Aurors out of the room and back to work again.

Minerva turned away from the group and walked over to where Hermione was sitting and the young witch felt her heartrate pick up at the vision. The tall witch’s cheeks were flushed from the exertion and a few strands of black hair had escaped the loosening bun to curl around her temples. The wide grin she wore showed sparkling white teeth and emerald eyes twinkled away with joy.

_Sweet Merlin help me, this woman is phenomenal. I’ve seen her in action before, but this? This was something else entirely. The speed with which she wielded her wand, the complexity of her spells and the elegance of her movements… I mean, wow!_ Hermione swallowed against the lump that had formed in her throat. _I think I’m developing a crush here._

Looking up at the approaching woman’s face, she was mesmerised by the bright green eyes that seemed to bore into her own. For the first time Hermione was consciously aware of the older woman’s appeal and she felt heat creep up her neck at the revelation. Suddenly very much aware of the emotions she must be projecting, she conjured a glass out of thin air and filled it with a whispered _Aguamenti_.

When she silently offered it up to Minerva, she saw a surprised smile at the thoughtfulness but the other woman soon bend over to accept the water. Long fingers brushed against her own and she had to suppress the pleasant shudder that coursed down her arm at the contact. She hoped Minerva hadn’t noticed her reaction and inner turmoil, because for the life of her, she couldn’t come up with anything to say.

Fortunately she didn’t have to because Minerva sank down on the bench next to her and started talking: “Ah! That’s better. Nothing gets the kinks out like beating up some overconfident men.” Hermione grinned at the conspiratorial wink she received and Minerva continued: “I hope you found my demonstration sufficiently insightful. You’re up next.”

Her mind went completely blank at the announcement and she simply stared at the woman beside her.

  
It was true though because five minutes later she found herself facing Auror Goodwill. Hermione had heard Kingsley order him to take it easy on her and the request had rubbed her the wrong way. _I know the Aurors are powerful but after the year I’ve had, so am I! I’ll show them easy…_

She knew that part of her competitiveness originated from a desire to impress a certain witch who was now watching from the side-lines, but the desire to prove herself worthy had always been a crucial part of her character. _All I have to do is focus. I’m not going down without at least a good fight._

Goodwill bowed respectfully and as she returned the gesture, the duel began. He shot of a stunner but she could see it coming from a mile away, so she didn’t even bother to deflect it and just stepped out of the way. Two others followed in quick succession, but these too were easily avoided.

_Really? That’s all he’s going to do?! Do they really think that dodging a few stunners was all it took to bring Riddle down?!_

Indignation at this sub-level display flared and Hermione felt her magic stir deep within. It felt like her entire being wanted to rebel against their prejudice and her skin tingled with controlled power. _I’ll show them who they’re dealing with_ , she thought wryly, while still observing Goodwill. The man didn’t look like he was going to step up his game, despite not being able to land a hit on her.

_I might just end it here…_ The magic that had risen to the surface was now pressing against her body from within and felt… powerful. And bold. She waved her wand to the side in a distracting arch while using her left hand to channel an _Expelliarmus_. Despite the fact that she’d struggled with wandless magic before, it felt almost too easy. Her opponent fell for the diversion her wandarm created and his own wand was tugged out of his hand and flew right into hers.

Goodwill stood there looking at her in shock, his hand still outstretched in an attempt to grab the wand that had flown far beyond his reach. A silence fell after her demonstration, but was quickly broken by a hearty chuckle.

Minerva was looking at her with mirth in her voice and pride in her eyes and Hermione couldn’t help but return the smile, before turning back to Goodwill.

Throwing his wand back at him, she saw how he caught it in silence and he was observing her with more interest now. She felt a little bad for the man, so she offered: “I appreciate you holding back on me, but that’s not what I’m here for. Could we try again now that you know the kid gloves aren’t necessary?”

The Auror looked at his boss for confirmation and seconds later they were facing each other again. She could see his eyes had narrowed slightly in concentration but his expression was open, letting her know he didn’t hold the previous win against her. This time he waited for her to initiate the duel and so she started with a mix of stunners, another _Expelliarmus_ and a non-verbal _Petrificus Totalus_ , which he al blocked using a strong _Protego_.

Her magic seemed to be pulsing beneath her skin. A vast expanse of pooling power, ready to be let out again. _I could probably tire him out by forcing him to hold up the shield charm, but judging by the other two Aurors still present, I’m going to have to save my strength for them as well. How did Minerva defeat him again? Was he the one who ended up against the ceiling?_

She had halted her assault and he swiftly took the opening to start throwing a variety of hexes her way. Once again she side-stepped most of them, but she had to deflect a few as well. He was aiming not solely on her head and torso, but near her feet too and she actually had to jump over one while using a _Protego_ of her own to defend against a simultaneous higher aimed stunner.

She let him continue his attack, using only minimal strength to protect herself while studying him intently. She noticed his focus was solely on her, never straying around to take in his environment and it gave her an idea. She erected a stone pillar about a metre in front of her. The obstruction was only slightly bigger and broader than herself, but it withstood the brunt of his spells for now.

The pillar impaired both their lines of sight and she used the temporary cover to steel her nerves. He had stopped his attack and she heard his footsteps approaching from the other side of her stone shelter. When she estimated that he was close enough, she took a deep breath and set her plan into action: Her _Bombarda_ blew up the pillar and large chunks of rock were hurled towards the unsuspecting Auror. A fraction of a second later she followed with _Arresto Momentum_ and the pieces were held back, hovering in mid air and giving her a quick glance to locate her opponent.

He hadn’t anticipated her blowing up the stone, for they both knew it could’ve easily hurt him dearly if the rocks had connected with him full force. Seeing he had managed to erect a shield in time, she felt slightly impressed by his instincts. He had only cast it above his head and upper body because that’s where the projectiles had been coming from, leaving his lower body unprotected.

It was all she needed to aim a silent stinging hex in between the maze of floating stones. The yellow beam connected with his lower calf and she heard him curse when it hit. In a reflex to grab his pained leg, he reached down and at the same time the she lifted the _Arresto Momentum_.

The loud rumble of rocks falling straight down was the last straw for his concentration and instinctively he dove away from the ruckus, dropping his shield charm in the process. Seconds later a cloud of stone-dust emerged from the crushed stones, providing cover for the combatants.

It was already too late for Goodwill though. Hermione had managed to disarm him the moment he’d dropped his shield. She was a little surprised that her plan had worked out so well, but then she heard Minerva’s voice and instantly the dust was vanished and she could take in her surroundings.

Goodwill was lying on his side, rubbing dust out of his eyes, but otherwise completely unharmed as she had intended. Kingsley looked at her in surprise, but he seemed impressed by her feat. He gave her an amused grin before declaring: “Next!”.

  
Another five minutes later, Hermione was gritting her teeth. The second Auror had no intention of losing his duel and had immediately forced into a defensive position by hurling jinxes and hexes at her full speed. One minute in, she’d been hit by a mild stinging hex that came from the side and it had forced her to erect a strong shield charm.

The shield completely covered her but it also drained her magical reserves more quickly than she would’ve liked and she was growling in frustration. Her opponent had approached her and was grinning, already convinced of her defeat.

_You smug git, don’t count your blessings before you’re sure your opponent is actually down._ Her magic was still pulsating steadily, but she didn’t want to rely on brute strength for this duel. She knew she couldn’t cast a physical spell while her _Protego_ was up or it could rebound within the sphere and she’d likely hit herself.

_Come on, think! You’re supposedly the brains of the ‘Golden Trio’, so prove it! You can’t drop the shield or one of his spells will hit you and it won’t all be mild stinging jinxes. You can’t use an offensive spell or it’ll rebound. So what’s left that you can do?_

She imagined a lightbulb going on in her clueless brain and somehow the imagination actually inspired her next move. Closing her eyes, she concentrated strongly on keeping her shield intact while thinking: LUMOS MAXIMA!

Multiple voices cried out at what must’ve been a blinding flash but she steadily counted to three until she opened her eyes again. Her opponent was rubbing at his eyes furiously while letting out an impressive stream of choice words. She summoned his wand to ensure her victory but the moment she held the wooded stick in her hand, she started whispering a healing charm to return his eyesight.

Seeing him blink at her blearily, she asked if he was alright. He gave her a thumbs-up and let himself sag down on the floor in defeat. She turned her attention to their audience and winced. Minerva and Kingsley had cast the same healing spell on themselves but their eyes were still very red while they attended to the other two Aurors who had been watching.

She hastily made her way over to them and started babbling: “I’m so sorry! I should’ve clued you in somehow! Are you alright? Can I do anything to help?”

The two Aurors started laughing and she quickly shut her mouth at the unexpected reaction. The one she had faced in the first round of the duels spoke up: “Don’t worry Miss Granger, we’ll be right as rain in a jiffy. There was no way to alert us or you would’ve lost your advantage. It was a smart move. There are only a limited number of spells you could’ve used in your situation and if you’re standing here it means you were successful. Well done girl.”

After thanking him for his compliment, she turned to Minerva who’s eyes had lost most of the redness but were still blinking rapidly. She placed a hesitant hand on the older witch’s shoulder and quietly asked: “How about you Minerva, how are you feeling?” The headmistress couldn’t completely focus on her yet, but the answering grin made her sigh in relief.

“I adhere to Mr Goodwill’s statement. It was quick thinking on your part and if you give us another minute or two, we’ll be able to watch how you do in the last round. I’m impressed by the way. You were always an unusually bright student, but seeing you hold your own against fully trained Aurors is extraordinary. Make no mistake though, your next opponent now knows not to underestimate you and he won’t hold back. Be ready to fight fire with fire.”

Hermione was glad to see them all recover within the next minutes and soon she was indeed facing her last opponent. They went head to head, switching between offence and defence quickly and soon she was breathing heavily. Her physique had improved somewhat these last days in the castle, but months of malnourishment hadn’t been good for her endurance.

Her opponent however didn’t have that problem as he was more accustomed to long drills and hadn’t had to fight two others before this match. They both knew she was at a disadvantage and it wasn’t long before he had her retreating.

While she was forced to take a few steps backwards, he managed to do something with the floor underneath her feet and she lost her balance. She knew the _Expelliarmus_ was coming before he had even cast it and in her desperation she used the same spell on him.

There was a moment of panic when she felt her own wand being ripped from her grasp but she sighed in relief when her fingers closed around the unfamiliar wand she had managed to summon in return.

She saw him laugh when it became clear they had simply swapped wands but the next idea struck her at the same time. She had practised with a variety of wands over the last months and knew that once won, the wand would answer to her. _He won’t expect me to cast more challenging spells with an unfamiliar wand. And he’ll want his own wand back as soon as possible too. Right, let’s see if I can trick this one too._

Wordlessly applying a sticking charm to keep the new wand in her non-dominant hand, she also non-verbally added _Gemini_ to duplicate it. She moved the duplicate to her dominant hand and hid the real one by holding it behind her back, making it seem as though she took on the traditional duelling stance. She would be able to cast a shield without letting him know it originated from the wand she wasn’t showing, but she wasn’t sure if she could pull off wandless stunners from the fake one. The wandless and wordless magic she’d performed during her previous two duels had felt surprisingly easy, but she knew it was still in it’s early stages.

Fortunately she didn’t have to improvise, because soon he went on the offence again and she made a show of not being able to deflect with the new wand and she let his jinxes crash into her shield. The air of victory he had about him told her the act was working. After another round of stunners, he used the same spell that made her trip last time.

She carefully controlled the way her body fell and heard him shout _Expelliarmus_ again. Wordlessly she banished the fake wand in his direction and at the same time she felt the real one lurch by his summons. The sticking spell broke but she was able to hold on to the wand itself. With all the energy she had left she cast her own disarming spell and seconds later she felt the familiar wood of her own wand slide back into her waiting fingers.

He saw her holding her wand up in demonstration and attempted to fire another round of stunners at her. Only no spells were launched and he stared at the wand in his hand in shock. She heard Minerva’s loud laugh and giggled along with her. The poor man was still looking at the wand in his hand as though the thing had betrayed him by not performing.

Clearing her throat to get his attention again, she held up both wands. He was still confused by the time she handed it back to him and walked over to where Minerva and Kingsley were having a quiet conversation.

She was still smiling when they noticed her and they both congratulated her on her three victories. Smiling even more widely, she thanked them but with a bit more seriousness she asked: “Now will you two tell me what this was all about?”

Kingsley simply shook his head in mock exasperation, but Minerva smiled brightly when she answered: “This was about making a point about different fighting styles. From what I’ve seen from Mr Potter and Mr Weasley, they might certainly benefit from Goodwill’s training, but your own fighting style has more finesse. You don’t simply muscle your way through an opponent. You’re quick and graceful and you study your opponent’s weaknesses. You training under him would be like teaching a Fairy on how to wield a Giant’s club. Unless you want to completely change your fighting style and spell arsenal, you need another teacher.”

Knowing that Minerva must’ve studied her quite intently to describe her way of duelling like that, she blushed. Again.

_I see her point though_. Fighting the three Aurors had felt very similar to sparring against Ron. _But Harry’s style is more like a combination between both Ron and myself._

When she mentioned as much, she saw Kingsley’s mouth twitch up in one corner and he replied: “Don’t worry Hermione, I know Harry’s style. I want him training under Goodwill to make sure **his** kid gloves are completely off before I allow him the field. If he proceeds well, I’ll train him myself after that.”

She could see the validity of his statement. Harry still wasn’t comfortable with using real force against criminals. _I mean, what was he thinking when he use a simple disarming spell against Voldemort’s killing curse?! I love him for his big heart, but there’s a line he needs to just get across._

Telling Kingsley she saw his point made him smile, but she was curious about one more thing: “‘Then who will I be training with?”

It was Minerva who answered her question: “Me. You’ll train with me. You can still join the boys in their training if you really want, but I doubt it will do you any good. I can help you expand your own style if you’ll allow me to become your mentor once more.”

She was startled by the offer, but couldn’t deny it exhilarated her at the same time. A more practical thought made her speak up about a flaw in that plan: “But… what about the school? You’re needed there and you can’t orchestrate the constructions and train me at the same time, can you?”

The Minster himself was the one who waved away her concern: “From what I’ve seen today, you’re already close to the point where I would clear you for fieldwork. If you manage to train one hour a day under the Headmistress’ guidance and spend another hour building your endurance, you should be good to go in a manner of weeks. The boys will be spending half of the day getting a crash-course about the law enforcement itself. They need to learn in which situation they’re allowed to use force and when they need to back off. I know from experience you’ve already studied magical law, so I’m willing to let you skip that part. When Harry and Ron are about ready to be sent into the field, I’ll have you come by more often so you can all train together with your squad leader.”

Hermione nodded her consent before glancing at Minerva, who answered her silent question: “I can easily spare one hour a day for you lass and I can ask some of the other professors to join in occasionally if you want more hours to practice. Filius was a duelling champion in his time, so he’ll be happy to have a willing sparring partner.”

That cleared the last of her hesitance and she quickly agreed to the new arrangement. _I’ll be training with Minerva and Flitwick. Both are absolute masters in their fields. This day only keeps getting better and better!_ A little squeal of excitement escaped her normally firm hold on her emotions and they all laughed at the sound. She thanked the three Aurors for their time and they all made her promise to have a rematch soon.

  
Ten minutes later they were walking through the Ministry’s atrium on their way to the exit when she noticed Minerva throwing her a worried glance.

“Something on your mind Minerva?”

She halted their progression and her look turned serious when the taller woman answered: “Well yes and no. I’m not exactly thrilled to hear you’ll be putting yourself at risk again, but it’s not my place to stop you. I just hope you’ll try to be careful?”

Hermione smiled warmly at the admission and even felt her heart make a little jump, realising the older witch cared about her that much. She also appreciated the fact that her former professor hadn’t tried to talk her out of it and therefore she answered: “I can’t promise you I won’t put myself in any danger, but I will try to keep it as safe as possible. I don’t exactly go looking for trouble you know. Trouble just … seems to find me occasionally?” The last part she added a bit sheepishly and it made Minerva laugh again.

After a round of chuckles from both women, Minerva leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially: “I do need you to promise me one thing though.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow at that, but indicated the other woman could make her request.

“Don’t breathe a word about me duelling some Aurors to Poppy when we get back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I’d like to know what you guys think:   
> Did the duels make sense? How does the progression of the story feel to you? ANYTHING you’d like to share would be appreciated 😊


	8. Into the deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again 😊 Sorry to have kept you waiting a little longer than usual, but I’ve reached the end of my pre-written chapters and I made a deal with myself to only post if I’ve written at least half a chapter ahead.  
> I’d also like to celebrate a little milestone with you: one month ago I started posting this very first fanfic of mine and it’s been a wonderful journey so far. I’d like to think I’ve improved already and I’m enjoying every last little thing of doing this: from reaching the 150kudos mark to all the lovely comments. So I really just want to say THANK YOU ALL!

Over the next two weeks both women easily adapted to their new routines. They woke at six in the morning, shared a light breakfast that was usually accompanied by a frivolous practical joke from one or both and then went their different ways. Hermione went down for an hourly run around the grounds and afterwards she joined Madam Pince in their little haven of books.

Minerva met with her faculty members at seven a.m. sharp to address the topics of the day and either devoted the rest of the morning to paperwork or aided in the restoration works whenever she had the time.

Eleven a.m. found both witches meeting in the Room of Requirement which thankfully still worked after the Fiendfyre and they exchanged a barrage of progressively more difficult spells until their time was up and they had to join the others for lunch.

At Minerva’s insistence, Hermione spent one or two hours every afternoon revising topics that were required for the N.E.W.T.s she intended to take later that summer. The rest of the day she either went back to the library or simply joined a random group of workers.

Minerva had to go wherever her duties as Headmistress called her to but they always found each other again over dinner and talked animatedly with their table companions until it was time to retreat to their rooms.

Occasionally they took an evening stroll around the lake, discussing the day’s activities or Hermione’s progress on her studies. Late evenings were spent curled up in the couch by the fire, reading books or simply talking about random topics until it was time for bed.

The tight schedule they held on to during the week, meant that they could only go looking for the curse-breaker over the weekend. Come morning on Saturday, they would apparate to Stokesley, the town where Pictor Craggs’ marriage certificate was drawn up.

Initially they’d been surprised to find themselves in what appeared to be a rather large Muggle market town and Hermione hadn’t had a clue on where to start. It had been Minerva’s experience on how wizards and witches tended to integrate into Muggle society that had allowed them to locate a few wizarding families. Most of them had been elderly folks who’d been happy to talk about people they knew, but unfortunately none of them had ever heard of a Pictor Craggs.

It wasn’t until Minerva had dragged Hermione into a pub to eat some light lunch on their third visit that they finally found someone who’d known the curse-breaker. A middle-aged witch had been sitting at the bar, wearing mismatched clothes that were a clear sign that she wasn’t accustomed to Muggle clothing. She’d almost fallen off her barstool when the two “famous witches” had approached her. After exchanging some pleasantries and news from Hogwarts and London, they’d asked her about Mr Craggs. It turned out she’d helped him acquire a set of rare enchanted Onyx stones a few years ago but somehow she couldn’t recall the exact location of his shop.

Hermione had asked her to try and answer a few very specific questions about the location and it had become clear that a Fidelius charm was tampering with the woman’s ability to say anything about it. When Minerva had asked the woman to describe the route she’d taken that day, they’d managed to narrow the location down to “north of the river Leven”. It still wasn’t much to go on, but it had been something at least.

They’d started methodically walking the streets north of the river, but with no sign of any wizarding dwellings, they’d eventually given up for the day and returned to Hogwarts. By mutual agreement, they decided to return every Saturday and continue their methodical sweep of the town’s streets, but to take Sundays off. It was supposed to allow them to enjoy a weekly free day but most of the times Minerva ended up doing some paperwork, while Hermione trained and studied. However not all Sundays turned out to be dull.

\---

One particular Sunday morning when Hermione was halfway through her morning run she was joined by a familiar tabby cat. Minerva’s animagus made a playful swipe at the laces of her running shoes to get her laughing but otherwise the feline simply tagged along while Hermione finished her lap around the lake. By the time her hour of exercise was up, she was sweating profusely and she had to bend over to catch her breath with her hands on her knees for support.

When she raised her head half a minute later, the cat had turned back into the tall darkhaired witch Hermione was starting to get to know so well. The older woman was observing her with the faintest smile and silently held out a fluffy white towel for her to take.

Still breathing heavily, she accepted the towel and the bottle of water that followed soon after with a grateful smile. After gulping down the water and towelling herself mostly dry, she sighed contently and addressed her silent companion: “Thanks… for that... Much appreciated.”

She saw Minerva’s smile widen slightly at her short sentences but after her exercise it couldn’t be helped. She knew her breathing would even out within the next five minutes, but no sooner. _Not all of us are so light on our feet as she is while she’s a cat_ , Hermione mused.

When she first started her morning runs it had become clear that the year on the run had left it’s mark on her body. She’d been out of breath after barely a few minutes and without the adrenaline of actually having to flee or fight for her life, she’d had to stop disappointingly soon. Determined to exercise for the length of an entire hour, she’d decided to alternate between walking and running until her endurance improved over time.

She’d had to meet Minerva for magical combat practise only a few hours later and her muscles had already felt like lead after that first morning of running and walking. Not willing to show weakness in front of the witch she’d wanted to impress, Hermione had simply ignored her body’s protests and tackled the challenges head on. When her magic readily responded and continued to do so throughout the entirety of the practise with surprising ease, she’d been absolutely delighted.

The combination of these rather intense workouts had re-awoken her appetite and she felt her body agreeing with the regular meals she was getting. After a few days of uninterrupted sleep at night it all added up to Hermione feeling healthy for the first time in months.

As the days flew by and she settled into her new routine, her quick progress filled her with joy. The wandless magic she’d first displayed at the duels against the Aurors became almost effortless as Minerva had her practising old and new spells, both with and without words and wand. It still felt more natural to actually cast with a wand, so she kept her habit of keeping the wooden item with her at all times. Even her endurance grew steadily and after only a week, she’d been able to run for twenty minutes straight.

At a certain point Minerva had joined part of her morning run in her animagus form and Hermione had slowed her pace to accommodate for the older witch. She’d been baffled when the tabby cat had transformed back into her friend and it became clear that the woman was barely breathing any heavier than usual. Hermione’s pride had initially taken a small blow until her competitive nature took over. She’d started pushing herself to greater lengths in an attempt to match Minerva’s apparently great physique.

The next time Minerva joined her, Hermione had simply kept her own pace and at the end of the lap, she herself was sweating heavily but the Headmistress only had the faintest blush from the exertion. When she’d asked Minerva about it, the older witch had turned to her with a twinkle in her eyes and a matching grin.

“Cats are natural predators, my dear. They are built for stalking and running. I’ve never been one for picking up a running habit, but in my cat form it actually feels quite nice.”

Smiling at the memory, Hermione walked over to the water’s edge to flop down on a small but flat boulder in order to recuperate and enjoy the morning sun. Seconds later she heard the rustling of clothes and looked up in time to see Minerva sink down graciously beside her. They simply sat there for a couple of minutes, both women enjoying the comfortable silence that occasionally fell between them.

Hermione had spread out at a certain point and she was unconsciously waving her fingers through the cool water. The faint sense of déjà vu reminded her of another time, not that long ago, when she’d sat here wishing she could thank the merpeople for helping her. She recounted the memory aloud and watched as Minerva’s expression turned pensive.

The older woman appeared to be staring out over the lake when she spoke: “I’ve actually been thinking about meeting with their Chieftainess again. I know there was some sort of understanding between the merpeople and Albus when he was Headmaster, but I never knew if they had an actual agreement on certain things or if they were just friendly. Apart from knowing they live in the lake, I don’t know very much about them. There’s no written record about their tribe anywhere.”

Hermione had to suppress a laugh at Minerva’s tone and expression while she said that. It was obvious her former Head of House wasn’t used to not knowing things and, much like herself, she didn’t like it one bit.

“Then why don’t we go and find out?”, she asked. It wouldn’t be a stroll in the park, but they were both qualified witches who would actually be able to visit the underwater folk if they really wanted to.

The Headmistress turned her head towards her and raised an eyebrow upon hearing the nonchalance in her voice. Hermione noticed the twitch on the corners of Minerva’s mouth and knew the older woman would rise up to the challenge even before she could say so aloud.

“Fine, why not? But we’re waiting until you’ve regained your normal breathing and you’re taking a portkey in case anything goes wrong.” Minerva’s stern look made it clear that the last part was non-negotiable.

“A portkey? But they don’t work on Hogwarts’ grounds, do they?”, Hermione questioned with a frown and a confused expression.

“You forget once again that there are privileges to being accompanied by the Headmistress. Not only do the castle’s wards allow me to apparate, but any portkey I make isn’t bound by the wards’ restrictions either.” Minerva had pulled herself up to her full height while saying this and Hermione thought that for once her tall companion looked like she was happy with the benefits that came with her appointed job.

“Okay, sure, I’ll take a portkey with me so we’ll have an instant way out of the lake should we need it. But you’d better make one for yourself as well Minerva. You said so yourself: we don’t know a lot about the merpeople and your position as Headmistress might mean nothing to them.” Hermione saw that the older witch was about to protest so she returned the stern look that had been pointed at her before. She saw Minerva chuckle at her attempt to glare but the other woman eventually agreed.

Ten minutes later, Hermione had a little rock-turned-portkey in her pocket and she’d managed to convince Minerva that she’d recovered enough to proceed. Taking out her wand, she was about to cast the Bubblehead charm when she saw Minerva step up to the water’s edge and transform her robes into a one-piece bathing suit. Hermione felt her mouth go dry at the amount of skin that was suddenly on display. Long, toned legs became visible and her gaze drifted upwards over slender hips and a strong, curved back. Eventually her eyes reached the smooth skin of a delicate neck and it was at that moment that Minerva turned slightly towards her, giving her roaming eyes a nice view of the older woman’s cleavage. Hermione felt her face heat up and she quickly averted her gaze.

She tried to hide the heavy blush behind her frizzled hair by bending forward to take of her shoes. _Dear Merlin… I’d already thought she looked far too good to be in her sixties, but seeing her like this? I know women from all ages who’d be downright jealous of a body like that… I knew she must be in great shape after having her accompany me on my runs occasionally, but …_ Gulp. _She’s actually quite fit and attractive._ Hermione risked another glance at the tall witch out of the corner of her eyes and swallowed again at the sight. _No, ‘quite’ attractive doesn’t cut it, she’s drop-dead gorgeous._ She blinked thrice in rapid succession. _Oh my god, why am I so affected by her? Hermione Granger, get a grip, right NOW! Minerva really wouldn’t appreciate you eyeing her like this!_ With another gulp, she finished taking off her shoes and pointed her wand at her own clothes.

Before she could transform them into a bathing suit for herself, Minerva’s voice drew her attention away from her task: “You can use a Bubblehead charm if it makes you feel more comfortable, but you can’t really speak through the sphere once we’re underwater. I’m going to transform some gills for myself and pray that my voice can still be heard that way. I could do the same for you, if you’d like?”

While still attempting to hide the remnants of her reddened cheeks, Hermione answered: “That seems like a good idea. Maybe we could add some webbed feet too, to make the swimming easier? Harry always said the Gillyweed he used for the Triwizard Tournament was actually quite helpful.”

“Good thinking. Yes we should try that. And a heating charm as well. I remember Poppy telling me the champions were all hypothermic after that particular task”, Minerva replied while already waving her wand to make the discussed alternations to her own tall frame.

Hermione followed suit and got to work on her own, quickly transforming her clothes, feet and hands. When Hermione finally felt like her blush had subsided sufficiently, she straightened up to look at the patiently waiting woman beside her. She caught Minerva staring at her with an unreadable expression but she brushed it off, thinking her mind was still playing tricks on her. Because of the complex transfigurations she’d just done herself, her academically inclined side had kicked in and she asked: “I believe I can manage the gills by myself, but I’d like to have you nearby in case I mess up, if that’s okay? I know the theory, but I’ve never tried something like this before.”

She saw Minerva blink a few times and then those emerald eyes found her own brown ones. A proud smile had appeared on the older woman’s features before she replied that that was fine by her. She gave a quick lecture on the intricacies of transforming breathing-related tissues and demonstrated the wand movements.

Hermione absorbed the information effortlessly and focussed her magic on following the instructions. She felt a strange tickling sensation on the sides of her throat, right below her jaws and then suddenly she couldn’t breathe anymore. She grabbed her throat and gave Minerva a panicked look, thinking she’d done something wrong despite the woman’s guidance.

“Don’t panic, I think you did it right. Quickly, into the water now.” Hermione’s lungs were already starting to burn and she didn’t waste any more time. She quickly waded through the shallows of the lake until she felt the ground drop beneath her feet and she plunged in the cold, murky water. The momentum made water flow through her newly obtained gills and finally, thankfully, she felt her lungs take in the much needed oxygen again. She marvelled at the effortless efficiency and moved her hands and feet to inspect the new range of movements they now provided.

Hearing a sudden muted sound behind her, she spun to see Minerva appearing from a cloud of air bubbles. She too had transformed gill-like openings on the sides of her throat and Hermione saw her lift pale fingers to touch them. Green eyes took stock of her webbed feet and hands, before they darted around and landed on Hermione’s floating frame. She cocked her head to the side and gave a thumbs up to ask if everything was alright.

Hermione nodded and swam over, marvelling at the grace with which the older witch seemed to suspend herself in the water. The strands of black hair that weren’t firmly secured into the usual bun, were floating around Minerva’s face, contrasting against the pale skin. The fractured light than shone through the surface danced over the tall witch’s figure and Hermione felt a warmth spreading through her entire being at the ethereal sight. _I know I should probably fight this … attraction, but … anyone who saw her like this, would be affected too. At least the water is cold enough to help me keep a clear head_ , she thought.

\---

Minerva looked over at her young friend inquiringly, wondering what was on the other woman’s mind. _Maybe we shouldn’t do this today. She seems distracted… has been ever since this plan was brought up. Does she still have some unresolved trauma from the time she was down here as Mr Krum’s objective in the tournament? She was unconscious back then, so normally she shouldn’t remember a thing about it. I wonder if she kept in contact with him, they were such a striking couple at the Yule ball…_

Minerva was about to ask if Hermione had somehow retained some memories from that hour she’d been in the merpeople’s village, but she could barely hear her own words. Even when she tried projecting her voice, the sound was far to muted by the water to reach the younger woman. She saw Hermione frown and tap a finger against her ear, indicating she couldn’t hear her. Minerva internally cursed. _That slightly complicates matters. How can I speak with the merpeople’s Chieftainess if my voice is too garbled here?_

She was about to suggest going back to the surface to discuss the dilemma when she saw Hermione place her wand against her throat. Seeing the young woman’s lips form the word _Sonorus,_ she felt a grin lift the corners of her mouth at the girl’s ingenuity.

“Is this better?”, the resourceful brunette asked. Her voice still sounded like it was coming from the other side of a thin wall, but at least the words were discernible now.

Nodding, Minerva repeated the spell on her own vocal chords so she could answer: “Yes, that was some good thinking on your part. It still sounds a bit muted, but it’ll do for now.”

She saw the girl react with a proud smile before she asked: “What were you trying to say just now?”

Minerva hesitated briefly before answering: “It’s just that you seemed a bit distracted. Are you certain you want to come with me?”

The young woman suddenly got a look that Minerva occasionally saw on students she’d caught in the act of doing something they shouldn’t. It only lasted for a moment though and Hermione’s voice was steady when she replied: “No, that’s probably just the anticipation. I’ve heard Harry describe the underwater experience he’d gotten during the Tournament and I’ve always wanted to see if he wasn’t exaggerating things. I’m good to go if you are.”

“If you’re sure that everything is fine than yes, let’s see if we can find the tribe.” Minerva angled her lean body towards the centre of the lake and propelled herself forwards with the aid of her webbed feet. _Despite the dangers the Black lake holds, it actually feels quite nice to be able to swim like this. I’d thought my animagus would instil an aversion to water, but it seems I was mistaken._ She experimented with the momentum she could gain when she added powerful hauls from her arms and hands.

About 2 metres below her she could see Hermione doing something similar. The smaller body of her companion wove a path through this new expansive world like a fish in a stream. The analogy made her think of trying a simple spell so she raised her wand, pointing ahead and saying: _Pices colorum_. Multicoloured fish appeared and darted through the vast water, scattering the overhead light all around them. The newly created animals were more inquisitive than their natural counterparts and she felt a little fin tickle the skin above her ankle when one of them came closer to inspect their creator.

A giggle could be heard from somewhere behind her and she turned to look at her companion, who had halted her movements and was interacting with the creatures. Hermione was attempting to pet the little fishes that were darting in and out of her reach and tried not to squirm from the many tickles she received. The look of childlike glee on the young woman’s face warmed Minerva’s heart from deep within and her features softened above an affectionate smile.

Hermione’s gaze fell on her and the young witch returned the smile with a radiant one of her own. Minerva swam closer while her eyes were still captured by shining brown ones and she only halted her movements when she was right beside the other woman. The soft, joyful look translated into a shared moment of intimacy that would’ve taken Minerva’s breath away if she’d been breathing to begin with.

The moment was cut short however when something sharp connected with the calf of her leg and suddenly she felt herself being pulled downwards. It took her a moment to realise they must’ve reached the hunting grounds of the Grindylows as a group of them emerged from amongst the weed-like aquatic plants. Aiming her wand, she quickly cast a spell and a jet of water sprouted from the wandtip, connecting with the creature that had grabbed her. She felt sharp claws tear her skin when the Grindylow was blasted away from her and she gritted her teeth against the sudden pain.

She looked up to see Hermione was still hovering in the space above her, thankfully unharmed. The young witch had her wand out too and was snarling at their attackers, blasting spells towards any that dared to show their razor sharp teeth. Minerva felt, more than saw the many movements in the underwater forest beneath her and the instinct to protect the younger witch took over.

Some of the fish she’d created earlier were transfigured into a large, heavily enforced net and she propelled it towards the nearest group of waterdevils. The net effectively trapped them together and prevented them from further approaching their prey.

Minerva turned to get to Hermione but knew she shouldn’t have worried when she heard the other witch shout _Oppugno!_ The little fish around them became fast-moving projectiles as the entire swarm descended upon the group of Grindylows. They heard little screeches erupting from among the plants as the surprised waterdevils skedaddled under the onslaught.

It all had happened so fast that both witches remained unmoving for almost a minute after the last set of burning eyes and glistening sharp teeth had disappeared. When they realised the danger had abated, they ascended a few extra metres to keep a respectful distance between themselves and any future threats from the deep.

After she’d checked if Hermione was unharmed, Minerva lifted her leg to inspect the claw-marks the first creature had inflicted on her. They were bleeding but not too heavily and they appeared to be shallow wounds. She was about to cast a healing charm when Hermione’s gentle fingers curled themselves around her raised knee and healed it for her. The worried look on the younger woman’s face receded when her skin knit itself back together, leaving barely a trace of the cuts behind. Minerva smiled at the caring display, thinking the gesture was sweet.

The attack from the Grindylows had unfortunately wiped away the relaxed atmosphere from before and both women were a lot more attentive of their environment when they continued their journey.

It took them half an hour of blessedly uneventful swimming before they encountered the first merpeople. Two tall and ferocious-looking mermen had become visible on the ridge of an underwater ravine and the two women approached them slowly. They kept their hands up to indicate they didn’t pose a threat but the two pairs of yellow eyes remained fixed on them, aware of every movement. The two carried long spears and rudimentary armour, signifying them as sentries of sorts.

When they came within hearing range, one of the men addressed them in a low, raspy voice: “State your purpose, surface dwellers, for we have not been informed of any visitors.” It wasn’t spoken with any malice, but the intense looks left no doubt about the seriousness of his question.

Minerva made a slight bow and their attention shifted towards her when she answered: “My apologies. I didn’t know how to contact you, or I would’ve announced myself. My name is Minerva McGonagall and I am the new Headmistress of Hogwarts.”

The second merman seemed to smile at her words but his jagged teeth became visible, nullifying any kindness in the gesture. His voice was more clear but the hoarseness of his voice still sent shivers up Minerva’s spine when he spoke: “Ah, the shapeshifter. Yes, we’ve heard of you. Has the old wizard not taught you how to send a silver messenger?”

Inwardly Minerva rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. _Of course. A Patronus would certainly be a good way to send them a message, even here at the bottom of the lake. I wish Albus would’ve mentioned at least that much before he passed…_ She summoned her cat Patronus and let it bounce around for a few moments before it disappeared again and she could ask: “Is this the silver figure you meant?”

Two simultaneous nods were her only answer before the first one turned to look at Hermione and asked: “And who is this?” Minerva had to fight her instinct to put her body between those yellow eyes and her friend. She saw Hermione bow gracefully and heard her reply: “My name is Hermione Granger and I was told that some of your kin rescued me after the battle by alerting Minerva of my whereabouts. I’ve simply come to express my gratitude for that kindness.”

Minerva saw the sentries exchange a quick glance before the second male replied: “You may both follow me as I escort you to our leader.” With a flick of his silver tail the merman shot forwards through the water, leaving both witches to hurry after him.

He led them past a large mural depicting hunting scenes and through the village where several of his kin came out of their dwellings to take a closer look at them. The houses were hewn from solid, algae-stained rock and it gave the village a primitive but fascinating appearance. They came upon a rectangular plaza of sorts, which was situated roughly in the village’s centre. In the middle of this square stood a large statue, representing what must once have been an intimidating merperson.

Three merpeople emerged from one of the houses lining the plaza and Minerva instantly recognised the Chieftainess. Signalling to Hermione, they both made another respectful bow once the trio had reached them.

The guard that had escorted them here moved forward to introduced them: “Chieftainess, I bring you the shapeshifter and the lost warrior. They are here to speak with you.”

The merpeople’s leader towered above them, reaching almost seven feet. With her grey skin stretching over wired muscles and green hair dancing wildly around her in the small current, she looked almost feral. A faintly glowing trident was held in a grip that suggested she knew how to properly wield her weapon, but her intimidating appearance was softened by a strong musical voice when she addressed them: “Greetings. I am Murcus, Chieftainess of this tribe. It pleases me to see you both here in good health for once. Come, I believe we have much to talk about.”

And with those few words, she turned and swam through an open archway, leading them into her house.

\---

Hermione looked around the dwelling, fascinated despite the rudimentary interior. She kept quiet as Murcus and Minerva discussed things relating to Hogwarts. Her interest was piqued when Minerva asked how the tribe had first started interacting with wizards and witches. Murcus had laughed in a croaky tone and told them if it hadn’t been for her rescuing a young wizard, their relation with the surface-dwellers might not even have started at all.

As the mermaid told stories about an eleven year old Albus Dumbledore’s antics back when she’d first met him, Hermione couldn’t help but listen with rapt attention. Apparently he’d fallen into the lake while attempting some spell and she’d taken pity on him and guided him back towards the shore. They’d met frequently that year and she’d taught him their language, enabling them to interact beyond hand signals. Murcus explained that she hadn’t seen him for years after he graduated but when he became the new Headmaster, they established an accord between the surface and lake people.

The Chieftainess had just explained to Minerva that the agreement wasn’t extensive: the merpeople helped students and staff who fell into the lake and in return Albus had charmed the Hogwarts wastepipes to never again pollute the lake’s waters. With Albus there had been the occasional social visit because of their former friendship, but Murcus didn’t expect Minerva drop by every now and then. “If you keep the magic on the pipes intact and inform us of any plans concerning the lake, we’d already be satisfied”, the mermaid concluded. Minerva promised to do so and to add a line in the castle’s books for future Headmasters.

After they’d wrapped up their conversation, the mermaid turned her yellow eyes on Hermione and said: “You’ve been patient with us so far, so I’ll hear you now. Tell me young warrior, what brings you here?”

Hermione was a little startled by suddenly being spoken to but she repeated what she’d told the first sentry: that she was here to thank whoever had found her after the battle.

The mermaiden turned to look at one of the mermen who’d accompanied them for this meeting, before replying: “That’s very honourable of you to do. It was Murceon here, my brother, who found you that day.”

Hermione also turned towards the indicated merman and inclined her head respectfully before addressing him: “Thank you sir, for what you did that day. I’m not sure how long I would’ve been out there if it wasn’t for you. If there is anything I can do to repay your kindness, you need only ask.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask for something huge in return, but she really did want to thank him properly.

The mermen bared his broken teeth when he smiled and he cocked his head as if weighing her offer. “Maybe some of your magic in return for mine? Albus once charmed my sister’s trident to glow upon her touch and it’s proven to be a useful light source at least.”

Murcus’ responding glare didn’t go unnoticed but the mermaid didn’t comment on the fact that her brother had compared her weapon to a lamp. Hermione smiled at his request and nodded her approval. “I’d be happy to do that for you sir. Which object would you like me to enchant?”

He loosened a wristband on his left arm and she stood to accept it from him when he held it out to her. The item seemed to be made from fish hide and there was a translucent stone woven into it’s bindings. She looked up into his yellow eyes and commented: “The charm needs to be attached to the material. If this bracelet ever degrades, the charm will fade with it. I can charm it to endure longer too if you wish.”

Murceon nodded once and replied: “Thank you for the offer but that won’t be necessary. It’s only the stone I’d like you to enchant. I can always make another bracelet when this one fades.”

When she’d answered her understanding, Hermione took out her wand and held it over the small stone. The spell itself wasn’t that difficult, but to make it permanent she had to imbibe the stone with some of her own magic. Despite it’s small size the rock absorbed more of her strength than she’d anticipated before the spell took hold. She’d crafted the light after the luminescence that shone from Murcus’ trident but where the weapon glowed green, the stone emitted a whiter light. Offering the wristband back to Muceon, she couldn’t help but smile at the obvious delight in his eyes.

He carefully took the item from her again and held it up to inspect it more closely before saying: “Thank you little warrior, this makes for a greatly appreciated gift and any debt you felt you had towards me is hereby settled.”

They exchanged a few more words but it became obvious that their meeting had reached it’s natural end. She followed Minerva as the older witch swam straight up towards but after barely a minute she had trouble keeping up. _Maybe I shouldn’t have come down here immediately after running._ She was too proud to ask Minerva to slow down, but an idea had popped up in her mind and she smiled mischievously when she called out: “Say, Minerva?”

The other woman made half a somersault to look down at her inquiringly.

“Don’t you think it’s a little sad we didn’t get to use those portkeys you made?”

She saw Minerva cock an eyebrow in confusion but before the older witch could respond, Hermione had summoned her own portkey from within a hidden pocket and she felt a tug somewhere behind her navel and was transported out of the lake.

One moments later she was standing where they had started their little outing and she quickly transfigured her gills to allow for normal breathing again. She sank down on the same smooth rock again but before she could transfigure the rest of her body, Minerva appeared in a flurry of movement and splashing water droplets.

The Headmistress was rapidly reversing all of the transfigurations she’d made while cursing loudly. “Next time you suddenly disappear on me Hermione, I’d appreciate a little more warning in advance!” Minerva had barely finished transforming her bathing suit back into robes when she directed her wand towards Hermione and continued the movements.

Hermione felt a slight tingling between her fingers and toes and when she looked down at her hands, the webs were gone. There was a chill from the wind as her heating charm was cancelled and she shivered in response. A second later she was wearing her running clothes again and they were pleasantly warm from the vigorous drying spell Minerva must’ve cast on them.

Minerva was still grumbling as she sheeted her wand and Hermione reached out to grab her dangling hand when the woman tried to walk past. The older witch turned her head to glare at her when she tugged on Minerva’s long fingers to get the other woman to come closer. When Minerva was standing next to her, Hermione smiled up at the narrowed green eyes before placing a chaste kiss on the back of the older woman’s hand. “I’m sorry if I worried you, that wasn’t my intention. And thank you for reversing the spells for me.”

The anger in those emerald eyes dissipated almost instantly and Hermione sighed in relief when Minerva responded: “Yes, well… Just don’t do something like that again.”

“I promise I’ll try not to.”

Finally Minerva returned her smile and they both started walking back to the castle. At a certain point Hermione realised they were still holding hands but she didn’t want to let go just yet.

It wasn't until they reached the entrance to the castle that she felt Minerva withdraw her hand. “It appears to be almost noon. Will you join me for lunch?”

Despite wanting to spend the rest of this Sunday with Minerva, she felt her tired muscles protesting. “I’m feeling a little drained after all that running and swimming, so I might just go and take a short nap first.” She saw Minerva examining her more closely when she admitted her tiredness, so she added: “You should stop worrying so much. I’m fine, just a little beat. If I miss lunch, I’ll make a sandwich to tide me over until dinner.” She’d started walking towards the stairs while Minerva had halted next to the doors leading to the Great Hall. “I’ll see you later?”

Minerva nodded her agreement and they both turned to go their different ways. The short trek up the stairs depleted the little strength she had left and when she finally reached her bedroom, she didn’t even bother to undress before flopping face first onto the soft sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I’ve mentioned above, I really, really appreciate comments 😉  
> Lifting a tip of the veil: next chapter is going to bring them VERY close :-p  
> (but we’re not there yet!)

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to comment ;-)


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